


Cold War

by SatsunonSavior



Series: Breathers [3]
Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Bondage, Domnon/Subsuki, Drama, Dream Non-Con, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kink, More Story based, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, RACK - Freeform, Romance, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sequel, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3736129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatsunonSavior/pseuds/SatsunonSavior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or- How Kiryuuin Satsuki learned to stop worrying and love her Domme.</p><p>Seven months on from 'Breather', Satsuki and Jakuzure's budding relationship comes to a crashing halt. Are they brave enough to face their feelings, pick up the pieces and save their love through the power of snarky gift-giving and consensual kink? Multi-part sequel and likely conclusion to the 'Breather' series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seven Months and Fifteen Days

Date: September 21st

In Japan, there are many cities. Within these cities are many neighborhoods. Within these neighborhoods there are many bars, restaurants and cafes. Within these bars, restaurants and cafes can be found many different women. In a certain city, in a certain neighborhood and within a certain café there were a certain pair of young women. There were many ways in which they could be occupied on this fine autumn day, but currently, they were causing a scene.

“Look, I’m not saying that! I’m just saying that I think things are moving too fast!” said a tall, dark haired young woman slightly louder than she intended, a face that seemed suited for calm contemplation twisted in annoyance and anger.

“ _You’re_ scared!? _You?!_ ” said the contrasting woman opposite her; short where she was tall, tanned where she was pale. She spoke exactly as loud as she intended, her pink hair sticking out wildly around a face that was rapidly turning red, “Of all the fucking _bullshit-_ ”

“You’re damn right I’m scared! I don’t think it’s healthy!”

“Healthy? I didn’t hear you complain when you were using me to fix your fucking issues!”

“Look, some of the things you make me do-”

“ _Make_ you do!? I don’t _make_ you do anything!”

Finally, their volume reached a level that could no longer be ignored. The bravest of the waitresses took two hesitant steps into the conversation, tray raised defensively.

“Ummm ladies-” she began, before on cue they both turned to stare at her.

“ _You keep out of this!_ ” they snapped, then shot one another a venomous look.

“Let’s get this clear, alright? I didn’t _make_ you do anything! You came to me and asked, remember?” the pink haired girl snarled, waving a finger menacingly.

“I didn’t ask to feel this way!” the taller girl said, exasperated, “I’m in meetings and at work and all I can think about is _sex!_ It’s like you’ve made me into some teenage kid with only one thing on his mind! I can’t function like this!” she continued, unaware that her voice was rising to a shout. Her volume caught the attention of many of the café’s patrons and her words sharpened their attentions. Mingled with astonishment and leering interest were glances of disgust or annoyance, and the waitress turned and fled; deciding the problem had passed her pay-grade.

“That’s your problem?” she said incredulously, “Your problem is that you’re in-”

“Don’t say it!” the dark haired girl snapped, “Don’t you dare-“

“That you’re in _love_ with me!” she said, ignoring her.

“Urgh, I can’t even talk to you when you’re like this!” the tall girl groaned, turning half away, putting a hand to her face to rub at the bridge of her nose, “Just…just go.”

“ _Just go_? I’m not your fucking servant, woman!” Jakuzure Nonon snapped, waving her finger beneath the tall girl’s nose, squaring off against her. The taller girl’s face went pink, then darkened to red.

“I said go. _Please_.” she said, so quietly that it was almost inaudible compared to their previous shouting.

“I’m not going anywhere until you admit that you’re in love with me and stop being so wishy-washy!” Jakuzure shouted, her finger coming dangerously close to the girl’s face, “Stop being a coward and-"

_Slap!_

“I said- _Fucking. Go. Away!_ ” Kiryuuin Satsuki swore, for possibly the first time ever, her hand coming up in a scything arc and catching Jakuzure’s cheek in a stinging slap that turned her face almost completely away. In the gaping silence that followed even the murmurs of the bystanders fell away. Jakuzure raised one trembling hand to her face almost hesitantly, as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“Satsuki, I-” she started.

“I don’t care.” Satsuki said, her voice low, almost a rasp, “Just…just don’t talk to me. I need some space right now.”

With that she turned and all but fled, walking fast, her long legs outpacing the shorter woman’s attempt to keep up with her. Dimly through the roaring in her ears she heard her name being called, heard the panic and hurt in Jakuzure’s voice.

Fighting tears, she didn’t look back.

 

The sleek black town-car raced along the deserted streets at a casual ninety, wheels spinning as Satsuki steered her way out of town, overtaking anyone who got in her way. On the seat beside her, her purse began to sing out a chirpy little melody. She pressed her foot down harder and felt the engine roar in response, drowning out the repeating ringtone. Idly she realized that she had no idea where she was going. She just needed to be away, away from everyone, away from _her._ The phone buzzed louder, and with a grunt of frustration she lowered her window, wind whipping her hair across her face. Without taking her eyes off the road, she located her phone, digging through her purse until her fingers grasped its slender shape. Then she threw it fiercely out of the window, gone before she could hear it smash into the ground. Angrily, she batted away tears that threatened her vision, turning the road blurry. It would have been better, she thought, if the weather had suited her mood; hammering down with rain, or at least a dull grey carpet of clouds. Instead the sky stayed stubbornly blue, the sun shining down in uncharacteristic warmth for the season, mocking her with its perfection.

She drove for about an hour, covering god knows how much distance, stopping only when her tears threatened to force her off the road. She pulled to the side by a stretch of woodland and sat there, listening to the engine cool, little clinking metallic sounds breaking the silence. Birds chattered and sang nearby. Somewhere close a cricket chirped out its melody.

Satsuki rested her head in her hands and tried as hard as she could to divine the exact moment things had gone so _wrong_.

Seven months and fifteen days.

Seven months and fifteen days since she’d admitted that she might, _just might_ , be falling in love.

Seven months and fifteen days since she’d admitted that what she had with Jakuzure was more than just therapy, more than just sex.

And about seventy-five minutes since she’d fucking ruined it.

 

Seven months and fifteen days of…whatever this relationship was. Sleeping together, eating together, seeing movies together, walking in the park together, cuddling together…Jakuzure had invaded her life slowly at first, like a creeping vine, like ivy climbing the walls of her manor house until she couldn’t recall a single thing that they hadn’t done together. Until being with Jakuzure was normal, routine. Until being alone felt like… _being alone._

Seven months and fifteen days of careful, patient work. Of accepting flaws and revealing weaknesses. Of lowering boundaries and letting go of old wounds. Seven months of blood, sweat and quite literally tears. Seven months thrown away in one explosive moment of anger.

 

She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. Why did things have to be so god-damned complicated? How did something as simple as sex, as simple as the pleasurable stimulation of nerve endings have the ability to affect her so? When did the feeling of something tightening around her wrist start to make her draw in a startled breath? When did the words ‘ _good girl_ ’ start to make her flush with pleasure and _pride_?

Maybe it wasn’t fair for her to use Jakuzure as her therapist instead of seeing a professional. Maybe it wasn’t fair to make her put up with all her issues; her nightmares, her panic attacks, her sudden safe-words and shaking fits of tears. But maybe it wasn’t fair for Jakuzure to make her feel this way. Maybe it wasn’t fair to harass her at work, to send her teasing pictures and dirty texts. Maybe it wasn’t fair to suggest moving in together so soon, maybe it wasn’t fair that she was always so honest with herself, so free; maybe it wasn’t fair that she could tell her girlfriend that she loved her without thinking, without hesitating, without panicking, without-

She realized then that she was crying, and had been for several minutes, tears rolling down her face in fat, inelegant droplets to splash onto her lap. Her thighs were damp through her black business wear already, and she fished into her pocket for a tissue, mopping at her face, smearing her makeup as she did so. Once she thought she could drive without crashing, she disposed of the sodden tissue and started the engine, bringing its low rumble up to a roar as she headed back towards town. As much as she’d like to, she couldn’t stay out here forever.

 

Back home, she worked out her frustration on a punching bag for forty long minutes, until sweat ran in rivers down her body, plastering her hair to her face. It felt good, but she resisted the urge to imagine Jakuzure in front of her- the first time she tried to she hesitated so hard she almost pulled a muscle. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and looked around for her brush. She found two hair clips (Jakuzure’s), a pair of straighteners (hers), a pack of cheap hairbands (Jakuzure’s) and a small pink vibrator (definitely Jakuzure’s). Those went into a small black overnight bag that Jakuzure had left in her room months ago and had since neglected to collect. Empowered by the action, she spent the next ten minutes gathering up Jakuzure’s leftover possessions and dumping them into the bag while her hair dried. In went her bottle of hair dye, her toothpaste and toothbrush. In went her shampoo and conditioner, her hand-towel with musical notes on it, her nail clippers and a box of dental dams sat on her nightstand. In went two eyebrow pencils, three lip-glosses and _eight_ half used chapsticks. The bag was bulging by the time she was finished, and her hair was almost dry by the time she discovered her brush sitting on the bottom shelf of the bathroom cupboard. It was threaded through with strands of cotton-candy pink hair. Satsuki pinched the bridge of her nose and tossed the brush into the bag with slightly too much force.

 _If that isn’t emblematic of this whole messed up situation_ , she thought, _I don’t know what is._

A knock on her door startled her from her thoughts.

“Yes? Soroi?” she said, tugging the towel tighter around herself.

“Yes, my lady.” came her butler’s impeccably polite voice, “Lady Jakuzure has sent you a missive.”

Satsuki opened the door and snatched the letter from Soroi’s outstretched hand, startling him.

“Thank you.” she said belatedly, then added, “Look, Soroi…If Nonon comes by…” she trailed off.

“My lady?” Soroi said, clearly wanting to ask but unsure how to phrase a polite enquiry.

“Don’t let her in.” she said simply, turning away. “That’ll be all.”

“Yes my lady.” He said. His tone might have seemed ordinary to an outside observer, but Satsuki heard the subtle note of confusion and tension in his voice. For him, that was practically screaming. No matter, he would work out what had happened on his own soon enough. For now she took a seat at her little writing desk and examined Jakuzure’s letter.

 _‘Note’ would be a better descriptor,_ she thought, _This is written on the back of a parking receipt._

_~~To Satsuki~~ _

_~~To Kiryuuin Satsuki~~ _

_~~Dear Satsuki~~ _

__

_Satsuki, just read this okay? I’m begging you, don’t tear this up ~~like a melodramatic idiot~~ just please read it, okay? I’m sorry for what I said. I know that isn’t enough. I’m not trying to shift the blame here, but I’m not the only one who’s said things that they regret. You can hide from me if you want. You can block my number, screen my calls, filter my emails and burn my letters. But none of that will stop me from loving you. That you have no power over, no control. If you think I’m going to run, you have another thing coming. If you think I’ll mope or hide or give up, you’re wrong. ~~Fuck, I can’t even think straight~~. I can’t believe this is happening. The Satsuki I know would never hide from her feelings like this. You’re the woman who taught me to have resolve, so I’ll embody the virtues you value by winning you back with every inch of my heart. I _ will _fight for you, Kiryuuin Satsuki, so you’d better prepare yourself._

_~~When you find your courage, I’ll be waiting.~~ _

_Shit that sounds way too arrogant._

_I’ll be waiting, regardless._

Satsuki stared down at the writing held in fingers that shook only slightly.

At the bottom of the paper, smeared by a blot of water that could conceivably have been a teardrop was written-

 

_I love you._

_-N_

 

 

* * *

 

Date: September 28th

 

_One week. Seven days. It doesn’t sound like much, does it?_

_One week without Jakuzure. Seven days without her weight on the bed beside me, her breath mingling with mine. One hundred and sixty eight hours without her laugh, without her jokes, without her snide comments. Ten thousand and eighty minutes without hearing her voice. Six hundred and four-_

Satsuki shook her head and stopped trying to work out the number of seconds it had been since she’d last held Jakuzure’s hand.

 

 _Stick to the plan_ , she thought, _Holiday, gym, home. Relax, unwind, de-stress. All that feel good self-help crap._

She stepped from the dawn glare slowly into her cool dimness of her local gym – a quiet, private establishment not far from her house. Trading nods with the receptionist, she shrugged out of her jacket, leaving her standing in a pair of baggy athletic shorts and a white tank top. She spent a few silent minutes stretching, then decided today would be a good time to work on her cardio. She climbed onto a treadmill and started a slow jog to loosen her muscles. She let the monotonous exercise lull her distracted mind into relaxation, feeling the tendons slacken and the stiffness of sleep in her shoulders and back fade. She tapped a button on the treadmill and turned the jog into a slow run, picking up the pace. As her gaze fell into the middle distance her thoughts wandered. It was almost ten minutes before she noticed that the treadmill on the row in front of her that _had_ stood empty was now occupied.

 _That’s st_ _range,_ she thought, _Not many people work out this early…_

At first she thought that she was hallucinating. Then she was sure she just had to be mistaken. Perhaps it was a lookalike, a duplicate, some hidden twin sister never mentioned to her before. Perhaps one hundred and sixty eight hours separation had made her so desperate that she was imagining things. But no, it could not be.

 _Oh my god, that’s Jakuzure,_ she thought, dazed, _Jakuzure is in my gym. Jakuzure is in my private gym._

Her eyes widened a little more as she took in the figure jogging steadily before her. Or more appropriately, her attire.

_Jakuzure is in my private gym wearing tiny exercise shorts. And a sports bra. That’s at least one size too small._

She silenced a groan before it could begin and shut her eyes, feeling the beginning of a headache radiate at her temples. This must be Jakuzure’s idea of revenge, tormenting her like this to ‘win her back’. She shook her head and cleared her mind, taking a deep breath in and exhaling. Break up or no, tiny jogging shorts or no, Jakuzure was _not_ disrupting her morning workout.

 

 _“See something you like?” Jakuzure purred, hand on her hip as she looked coyly back at Satsuki’s kneeling form. The curve of her angled hips only emphasized the firm, pliant flesh of her backside, as did the barest scraps of red lace thong that clung to her, revealing_ almost _everything. That_ almost _was a sweet torment to Satsuki, and she had to lick her dry lips before she could muster a response._

_“Y-Yes.” she murmured, swallowing roughly, “Jakuzure-sama.”_

_The pink haired girl grinned at her and hooked two fingers into the waistband of the underwear, pulling it taut in teasing suggestion, enjoying Satsuki’s discomfort._

_“You really like my ass, huh?” she asked, chuckling, “Are you a pervert, Satsuki? Does my cute little ass get you all flustered?”_

_Satsuki flushed, biting her lip, angry at being called a pervert, but the thrum of desire that shuddered through her couldn’t be denied._

_Besides, kneeling in front of your girlfriend while in bondage isn’t the strongest debating platform, she thought._

_“I’ll take your silence as a yes.” Jakuzure said, tugging the underwear slowly down her body, kicking it aside. Then, without a trace of shame or hesitation she widened her stance, spreading her legs beyond the width of her shoulders, then bending at the waist to expose herself thoroughly to Satsuki’s view not a dozen inches away._

_“Here’s your treat then.” she purred, as Satsuki made an inarticulate sound of complete desire._

_“Get a nice…long…look.”_

Satsuki snapped her gaze up and away from Jakuzure’s gyrating backside and let her gaze dance among the ceiling lamps and air conditioning vents. She cursed inwardly at her wayward thoughts and tapped the treadmill’s speed control until she was running properly, feet beating out a quick, lively rhythm.

_Damn it Satsuki, concentrate! You’re a Kiryuuin! You are disciplined! You are focused! You are not a teenage boy!_

Slowly her eyes drifted down to the middle distance and stayed there, relaxing into her familiar thousand yard stare as her mind wandered away again. She barely felt the sweat beginning to bead at her brow, or the slow ache in the base of her legs. She was a Kiryuuin. She was focused. She was-

 

_“Being disciplined.” Jakuzure said matter-of-factly, bringing the flogger across her back again in a way that sent stinging jolts through her skin. She let out a rough cry and her head fell forwards, shoulders shaking in pain. Jakuzure sniffed disdainfully and hit her again- twice, one forehand one backhand, making the muscles of her arms tighten as they strained against the rope suspending her from the ceiling, struggling to support her own weight. Something wet slid down her cheek, thought whether it was sweat or tears she didn’t know._

_“If you can’t make time for me…” Jakuzure said, her voice stern, “I make lines for you. These ones ought to remind you of your priorities.” Satsuki winced. She knew Jakuzure wasn’t going to take another missed dinner with her lightly, but introducing her back to a flogger was not what she envisioned. Their play had brushed impacts only lightly with both the hand and the crop, and while she knew Nonon owned a few more…intimidating tools, the flogger was earning her respect with the way its marks stung and burned across her back. It had seemed such a small thing, almost comical with its minute size and trailing black strands, but the first slash of it across her skin had elicited a true cry of pain. It had not been the last such cry she had made this night._

Satsuki grunted in frustration and rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

 _Just hang in there,_ she thought grimly, _Jakuzure hates exercising. It’s only been ten minutes. Soon enough, she’ll get tired and leave. She’s not going to outwork me._

Five more minutes passed. Then ten. Unwillingly her gaze slid back to Jakuzure, either the motion of her body or the sheer heat of her presence drawing the eyes to her. She was running a little slower than Satsuki, but still fast for her shorter height, and the motions drew Satsuki’s eyes to the lean muscles of her body like a dying man crawls to water. Her eyes fixed on the shapely, darting legs that lay beneath that perfectly toned bottom and she could almost feel her mouth begin to water.

_They’re just legs, Satsuki, nothing special. You see legs all the time. Regardless of how aesthetically pleasing you might find them, they’re just-_

_“Awfully sore…” Jakuzure mused, her long legs crossed before her lover, who was kneeling in subservient obeisance. “I’ve been on my feet all day, rushing here and there, dealing with troublesome people. My legs are so sore, not to mention my feet. I think a foot massage would make me feel better.” she said._

_Satsuki rolled her eyes. Jakuzure was a wonderful dominant. All she had to do was act like she was back in Honnouji Academy and she was a complete and utter brat again. Not that she was complaining, precisely._

_Instead she shuffled closer on her knees and reached out to soothe the muscles of Jakuzure’s feet._

_“Ah ah ah.” Jakuzure shook her head, using her crop to tap the outstretched hand away, “I didn’t give you permission to use your hands did I Satsuki?”_

_Satsuki withdrew her hand, feeling her cheeks heat up as she shook her head in agreement._

_“No you did not, Jakuzure-sama.”_

_“No I did not.” Jakuzure nodded, smiling approval down at her, “So you won’t be using them to massage my feet.”_

_Satsuki cocked her head, unsure of how to continue. Cautiously, she asked;_

_“So…how will I be massaging your feet, Jakuzure-sama?”_

_Jakuzure smiled a wide, wicked grin and lifted one elegant leg, extending it until her foot hung lazily just before Satsuki’s face._

_“You’ll be using your pretty little mouth. I have to stop you talking somehow, don’t I?”_

_“W-what!? I’m not putting my mouth on your feet!” Satsuki protested, pulling her face away._

_“Excuse me?” Jakuzure asked dangerously, “Do you have a problem with my instructions? Are my feet so disgusting to you?” Satsuki flushed and shook her head quickly, raising her hands in apology._

_“N-No, no, your feet aren’t disgusting, it’s not that!” she said. Jakuzure raised an eyebrow._

_“So what’s the problem? They’re quite clean. And you’ve had your mouth much dirtier places, Satsuki-chan…”_

_Satsuki flushed an even deeper red, faltering in her excuses. They both knew it wasn’t about dirt, or where else Satsuki’s mouth had been. It was simple; it was unbearably humiliating. It was sadistic and cruel and designed solely to prove that Satsuki would do something so debasing and fetishistic if Jakuzure told her to. It was a showcase of her submission. But she couldn’t say that. That was the whole point after all._

_She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly._

_“T-there’s….” she whispered, “There’s no problem, Jakuzure-sama.”_

_Jakuzure’s grin lit the whole room better than the flickering candles, and Satsuki felt desire flood her body at the simple joy of pleasing her._

_“Good.” Jakuzure said simply, wiggling her toes, “Get to work.”_

_Pressing her tongue to the sole of Jakuzure’s offered foot, she did._

 

Fifteen minute passed like an eternity. Satsuki kept running, her well trained body accommodating the demand with ease, breath calmly sliding in and out of her lungs in disciplined rhythm. Sweat slid down her brow and she dashed it away with the back of her hand.

Thirty minutes since she began running, something drew her attention to Jakuzure, movement catching her eye.

 _Bingo,_ she thought, but Jakuzure simply lifted a water bottle to her lips and suckled greedily at it. Her bright, sparkling eyes met Satsuki’s in the mirrored gleam of the gym’s far wall. She raised an eyebrow and swirled her tongue around the rim of her bottle as she swallowed with entirely too much gusto.

Satsuki flushed a deep scarlet and darted her eyes away.

 

_“Please!” she gasped hopelessly, hips arching against the restraining ropes that held her to the bed, friction burning her in her hasty, desperate motions, “Please!”_

_Jakuzure knelt at the end of the bed, looking at her with cool, disdainful contempt. The marks from the flogging only intensified her pain and desperation as her body writhed on the bed- cool sheets like sandpaper against the marred skin of her back._

_“Please what, Satsuki?” she asked, using her name like an insult, her voice low and cruel. She brought her hand down hard on the inside of Satsuki’s thigh, needlessly tormenting her further, “What do you think you deserve from me?”_

_“Please- y-your mouth!” Satsuki begged, incoherent with desire, “Use your mouth, please, I’m begging, I’m begging, I never beg, but please, oh god, I need it!”_

_Jakuzure bit her lip, desire warring with anger. Finally she shook her head. Satsuki made an inarticulate sound of despair until the shorter woman bent to press her lips to the inside of Satsuki’s thigh._

_“Just so you know, I’m still mad at you.” she breathed. But then she was between Satsuki’s legs and her lips formed a tight little seal around her clit. She came apart the moment the tip of Jakuzure’s tongue brushed her clit, flattening against it and swirling in a rough motion that sent her tumbling over the edge. Two fingers parted her with shameful ease as the climax hit her, and the writhing motion of Jakuzure’s tongue didn’t cease as she forced her to climax, then climax a second time, this time entirely against her will. Soon she was pounding her fists against the sheets in helpless, agonized desire, tears in her eyes as Jakuzure’s tongue tormented her beyond pleasure and into pain, her body strung higher than ever before._

_“Stop, please! Thank you thank you thank you, that’s enough you can stop, you can stop, oh god, please stop!” she whimpered in submission, her hips arched off the bed despite the ropes digging into her thighs._

_“Oh I should stop?” Jakuzure asked, thrusting her fingers ruthlessly deeper, “Because it’s not convenient for you anymore?!” Satsuki writhed, bucking her hips and wiggling to try and escape the squirming fingers._

_“Isn’t it awful when someone has no regard for their partner?” Jakuzure asked, irony heavy in her voice, “Isn’t it horrible when someone treats your wishes as inconsequential?”_

_Satsuki could barely hear her; she was jerking, spasming as a third orgasm ripped through her, desperately trying to tear herself away from the now painful thrusting of Jakuzure’s relentless fingers and punishing tongue._

_“Stop, please, Jakuzure it hurts, it hurts! Stop! It does-Ah! It doesn’t feel g-good anymore, Stop! STOP!” she squealed, but the petite girl’s eyes blazed with desire and anger, and her fingers didn’t stop stirring her up inside, curling and squishing back and forth lewdly. Satsuki bit her lip and let out a strangled moan._

_“Junketsu!” she shrieked, and went to pieces._

Satsuki gasped in pain as her foot slipped sideways, gait uneven for long enough to send her stumbling backwards off the treadmill. She landed badly and fell into a graceless heap on her back, panting. Suddenly everything was too much; her thoughts, her exhaustion, her anger, her regrets.

“Ah, _fuck!”_ she swore, slamming her fists on the ground in frustration.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jakuzure asked, by her side in an instant, her slender fingers cupping her twisted ankle tenderly, examining the injury. Satsuki jerked away as if her touch burned, averting her eyes.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.” she insisted, getting to her feet. Or rather to her foot, as the injured one buckled the second she put weight onto it, nearly sending her tumbling to the floor again. Instead she tumbled into Jakuzure, who slid an arm around her waist.

“Don’t be silly.” she murmured, her voice very quiet, “You’re hurt.”

Satsuki took hold of the girl’s arm and calmly threw it off her, forcing Jakuzure to take two quick steps to recover her balance. She gave Jakuzure a brittle, angry glare that skewered her to the spot.

“Only by you.” she said, turning to hobble away.

Jakuzure watched her go, arm still extended to help her.

The door to the exit slammed closed behind Satsuki’s hobbling form.

“Shit.” Jakuzure swore.

 

Satsuki stumbled to her car, thinking furiously, her thoughts a chaotic jumble.

 

_Why am I sorry that we broke up?_

_I was right to do it. She was cruel to me._

_She made me do things I didn’t want to do, did things to me that I didn’t want._

_Didn’t you? You begged for them, remember?_

 

_Shut up, she took it too far!_

_Did she? That wasn’t the first time she’d tormented us that way._

_And she stopped the second you used the safeword._

_She used our personal life against me,_

_That’s not alright. That’s out of line._

_Aren’t you the one that treats sex like therapy?_

_Are you mad because she did it, or mad because it makes you feel like a hypocrite?_

 

_I’m mad because she came to my damn gym to mess with me!_

_Maybe she just missed you as much as you miss her?_

 

Satsuki hesitated, cursing softly under her breath.

_Damn it, I’m losing an argument with myself._

_I think you’re scared of how much you mean to her._

_I think I’m scared of how much she means to me._

 

Her inner voice had no answer to that.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should add, as I'd forgotten to, a small disclaimer. In the second and fourth reminiscence (The flogging and the forced orgasm), Jakuzure breaks an important rule of BDSM in introducing out of scene feelings of anger into a scene. Sometimes such things are permissible if negotiated beforehand, and in the case of the flogging I think it probably was. However, I think she does go too far in the forced orgasm scene, so far that she forced Satsuki to safeword out. I want to make it clear this is NOT OKAY, and that I do not condone people bringing un-negotiated issues with their partner into a scene. Play safe, people!


	2. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's so easy to form a routine. Humans are creatures of habit, after all. In the aftermath of their break, Satsuki and Jakuzure try to come to terms with this disruption to their schedule, with limited success. And to think it's only been a week.
> 
> Who will be the first to extend the olive branch? Only time will tell.

Date: September 28th

 

_Jakuzure’s fingers danced lightly across Satsuki’s stomach, trailing across the smooth, pale expanse like figure-skaters she’d once seen as a child, her tiny hands lifting herself clumsily up to see over the barrier separating the crowd from the rink. She’d marveled at how graceful they were, how effortlessly they moved in time to the sweeping music. Silently, she had sworn that she would be as graceful as they were, one day. Jakuzure’s motions were no less graceful now as soft fingertips traced through the thin, fine dark hair at the apex of Satsuki’s thighs. There they split, two and two, delaying the moment that, like sinking into a warm bath would part her lips in a soft sigh of pleasure. Instead they trailed sideways, sliding down the breadth of her thighs, nails scratching ever so lightly in the suggestion of sharper pleasures._

_“Desperate yet?” Jakuzure murmured, breath feverishly hot against her ear in the frigid room. Satsuki’s body was supine- stretched out catlike, arms above her head, fingers entwined in sheets, legs together and toes pointed just so, en pointe towards the foot of the bed. In contrast, Jakuzure was slouched almost casually against her side, barely touching her, their bare skin brushing in a half dozen places. In fact she was so casually placed that despite her torments Satsuki could all but taste her poorly hidden intensity. Her face held the same placid focus that it displayed whenever she played a truly difficult musical piece, or when she conducted for her orchestra. Or, she thought, a bemused smile crossing her face, when she was truly afraid of something. She spent so much time observing Satsuki’s reactions, so much time testing her boundaries that Satsuki began to feel like a map laid out along the sheets, Jakuzure’s fingers running down rivers and pathways along her skin, tracing over the hills and valleys of her body. She was, pardon the expression, virgin territory, ready to be invaded. Indeed that was an appropriate way to think of it, for Jakuzure made love like others made war. That was not to say that she was rough, or aggressive. She was instead, rarely reckless, preferring reconnaissance to a headlong charge, and currently she was scouting how close her fingers could come to her partner’s center before pulling away, provoking little half-gasps and frustrated breaths. Fingernails slowly entrenched themselves along her thighs, digging in, turning the scouting to a reconnaissance-in-force, drawing a sharper gasp from unwilling lips._

_“Don’t try to hold back. Surrender to me.” Jakuzure whispered, making the words sound like both the grandest offer and the most humiliating demand in the same breath. But it was a game, one of many they played. Tonight its rules were simple; if she moved, she lost. Jakuzure’s games were always the same- either way she wins, Satsuki thought as she tensed her thighs, turning a questing thumb aside, sending it brushing up along her mons instead. It dallied there, strutting back and forth like a conqueror._

_“Come on…” Jakuzure pressed herself closer, bringing her meager breasts into contact with her side, letting her feel their press, their weight, the tiny hardness of her nipples, the silky caress of her skin. Worst was the sheer heat of her. Jakuzure was like a fire, an inferno kept burning within a container too small to hold its flames. Her skin was fever-hot and sent lines of goosebumps radiating out across her arms and legs wherever their flesh met._

_Satsuki shook her head very slightly._

_“Never.” she said defiantly, knowing it was the answer Jakuzure wanted. It provoked a wicked, Cheshire-cat grin, gleaming in the moonlight._

_Jakuzure’s hands left her thighs, unwilling to commit to a frontal assault so soon. Instead they found her breasts, fingers curling to secure them within her grasp, thumbs brushing softly over nipples already standing tall atop her chest. The squeezing, massaging touch made her hum out appreciatively, but no more than that. Unlike Jakuzure, her breasts were merely pleasurable to the touch. She had a theory that with enough time and effort it would probably be possible to make Nonon climax through the thorough application of lips, tongue and teeth upon her breasts, especially when paired with the use of her hands. Not that tonight was the night to test such a hypothesis. Instead she concentrated on not moving, holding her throbbing hips in place no matter the urge to squirm her thighs together, to stir the embers of pleasure burning in the pit of her stomach. Let Jakuzure have her fun, she would tire quickly enough. True enough, Jakuzure soon became impatient with Satsuki’s lack of reaction. Petulant, her nails came out to play, raking marks of pink and red across milky white skin, the invader resorting to scorched earth tactics. Her thumbs and fingers came together, a pincer attack at her nipples, squeezing first soft, then hard. The initial softness of her touch made it all the worse; the way the sensation blended from pleasure to pain making her hiss out a breath between her teeth, nearly arching her back before she could remember herself._

_“No!” she said, panting, though Jakuzure had made no statement, asked no questions. Jakuzure’s smile widened, her grip tightened. Her breasts felt as though they were on fire, moving through the subtle gradients of pain from dull ache to the white-hot fire of agony. Jakuzure’s fingers twisted, a quarter turn each way. The fire swept into an inferno as she cried out, hips shaking as instinct warred with discipline. Aeons passed in the time it took to take a shuddering breath. An unknown length of time later, Jakuzure’s hands came mercifully free of her, making a tactical withdrawal. Behind them they left her body a warzone, marred and marked by their campaign- nail marks and scratches turning red in the soft, dappled moonlight. They traced her thighs, her hips, her stomach and her breasts like battle scars, or like bizarre Celtic tattoos painted in whorls and knots._

_“Hmph.” Jakuzure huffed out a breath, “You’re so stubborn, Satsuki-chan.”_

_Satsuki almost laughed. She didn’t though. She knew that would be unforgivable._

_But really, calling me stubborn? She thought to herself, talk about the pot calling the kettle…_

_“A different tactic then-”Jakuzure mused, distracting her train of thought. Then she bent to kiss her, and all thoughts left her head for a wondrous instant just as they always did when Jakuzure’s lips met hers, her cotton-candy colored hair falling to frame her face as she did so._

_Their lips pressed lightly together and for a few sweet moments Kiryuin Satsuki didn’t exist. Of all the sensations in the world, of all the pleasures and ecstasies, this was her favorite. A climax was nothing compared to the way she felt when Jakuzure kissed her. Jakuzure’s whole body was bent to her, every muscle and sinew of her poised just so to provide for her hungry, searching mouth as the kiss deepened. Jakuzure had a whole repertoire of kisses, and Satsuki had taken her time learning them all by heart, like an actor memorizing lines or a dancer learning steps. She danced now through the motions of this one, tilting her jaw up just slightly to let Jakuzure’s tongue flick her lips apart and press between, claiming her as easily as plucking a flower from a garden. Suddenly, teeth pressed lightly down, catching her lower lip in a teasing grip, pulling and releasing in a swift tug that left Satsuki panting and off guard. Through the haze of her arousal remembered that, while Jakuzure might have her repertoire, she was also a true virtuoso and thus never hesitated to improvise._

_This kiss was quickly becoming a symphony, if not a masterpiece. It pressed deeper, and it almost seemed as if Jakuzure was sinking into her, claiming her whole body for her own. The heat of her form pressing down atop her made the distinction between Jakuzure’s flesh and her own blur, as if they were molding themselves together. A hand cupped her cheek, her jaw. A thigh squirmed between hers, pressing with practiced ease right where it was most wanted. Satsuki twitched a hand, hesitated. Jakuzure came up for the space of a breath;_

_“You can move!” she said entreatingly, game forgotten._

_Satsuki took her words to heart, shifting her legs to wrap around the delicious pressure of that thigh, moving her own up until she drew a whimpering little gasp from Jakuzure’s lips. Their hips began to mirror the dance of their lips and tongues, in harmony…or was it counterpoint? Satsuki’s thoughts frayed as Jakuzure’s free hand scratched across her hip, finding its way to her backside. When she felt the inevitable bite of nails there, she let out such a desperate sound that it seemed she might climax right then and there. Words fled. Thoughts fled. They moved faster, an urgent note winding its way through the dance, the finale approaching. Someone moaned gutturally, and Satsuki didn’t know who anymore, and didn’t care. Her hips rolled faster, faster against the pressure of Jakuzure’s thigh, while Jakuzure’s slender form rocked above her in mirrored perfection, dampness wetting the pale skin of her own muscled limb. The demands of her lungs became too great and she broke the kiss with a gasp, rocking forehead to forehead instead as they raced through the final steps of the dance together, the tempo racing from allegro to presto. Graceful rocking gave way to frantic grinding and sensation stacked on sensation until she was sure that she would burst under the weight of it all. It seemed that they came in flashes now, each burst of sensual pleasure accompanied by a riotous bloom of sensation and emotion;_

_Skin on skin, fever hot and burning._

_Scratches, marks and raking nails, aching nipples pressed flat by the assault of Jakuzure’s breasts._

_Hips writhing against hips, thighs rubbing between thighs, Jakuzure’s mouth on her mouth, Jakuzure’s hips on her hips, Jakuzure’s thigh pressed right to the very center of her. It was too much._

_“N-Nonon!” she cried out, the cresting wave of their motions threatening to undo her._

_“Satsuki!” Jakuzure echoed, leaning in to sink her pretty white teeth into the straining muscles of Satsuki’s shoulder. That sharp and sudden pain mingled with a masochistic kind of pleasure and nearly pushed her over the edge by itself._

_“Nonon, I-, ah- c-can I cum?!” she begged, babbling as shuddering waves of ecstasy pushing her towards climax, wiping away her thoughts, her fears, her desires until she was an animal in heat, sweating, panting, arching her back. She moaned lewdly and without shame, hips shaking, rutting as she ground her soaking cunt into Jakuzure’s thigh. She was close, closer than she’d ever been without coming apart, so close that she could taste it in her very soul. Jakuzure lifted her head and crashed her mouth into hers for a breathless instant, pulling back as her own body tensed and shook, as if she was seizing. She stared deep into Satsuki’s eyes, unfocused with passion and opened her mouth to speak, to give her permission, to grant her wish, to tell her to climax, to_ order _her to climax. Her lips parted and she said;_

_“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP-_

Satsuki opened her eyes and immediately regretted the decision.

In the background, her alarm clocked blared out its declaration that it was exactly six o’clock in the morning with the desperation of a tool that seems to be anticipating its own imminent destruction.

She let out a long, agonized groan and reached out to switch the offending gadget off with a precisely restrained touch.She knew that no matter the circumstance, no matter the satisfaction she might feel momentarily from smashing the blaring annoyance into its constituent parts, the time spent buying a new one would just annoy her more. Besides, Soroi would ask questions. Well, no he wouldn’t, but he’d _look_ at her, which was worse. A _look_ from Soroi was like an inquisition all on its own. She flopped gracelessly onto her back again and lay there for a moment, her hands folded across her chest, which raised and lowered with each shuddering breath she took. She held out for almost a full minute, delaying the inevitable, before she sighed breathily and slid a hand down her stomach towards the apex of her thighs. Her questing fingers slid between the pale limbs and came back slippery and slick with herself, confirming her guess.

“Damn it.” she swore, “I can’t even get any peace in my dreams. I bet Jakuzure is laughing herself sick right about now.”

* * *

 

 

“F-fuck!” said Jakuzure through a shuddering breath, her voice hitching as her fingers caught her clit at just the right angle. Desperately she rolled her hips up into her hand, trying to find that one sweet spot that evaded fingers still clumsy from sleep. Her other hand pawed at her breasts, gripping and cupping the meagre handfuls, squeezing the tender flesh of them, tugging at her aching nipples until she hissed in pain at the sheer force of the sensation. A gasp ripped out of her as she brushed up against that place again, and she swore as the jerking motion of her hips threw her fingers out of alignment, numbing the pleasurable motion of the hand shoved between her thighs. She was not delicate with herself that morning, not subtle or teasing or in any way indirect. She lay back on her bed, sheets thrown haphazardly to one side in a rumpled heap, underwear tugged down and strung tight between barely parted thighs as her fingers flicked, slid and rolled over her clit, pushing herself ruthlessly towards the edge without mercy.

She slid two fingers inside herself, flushing at how easily she parted herself to gather slickness on her fingers, using the slippery coating to smooth the gliding, rolling touch over her clit. Moaning, she recalled the dream again, closing her eyes and casting her thoughts into her imagination. She let out a shuddering little gasp and tried to imagine that it was Satsuki’s tongue grazing her inner folds, Satsuki’s nose bumping clumsily against her clit, Satsuki making little sweet noises of appreciation as she worked with lips and tongue to please her Mistress. She recalled the feeling of Dream-Satsuki’s fingers digging into her hips, nails pinning her in place so that she could not retreat from the constant assault of her lashing tongue, her suckling lips and eager mouth. She recalled the way the dream version of her lover had slipped a hand between her own thighs, working at her own pleasure with an eagerness that set Jakuzure’s cheeks to burning and made her skin feel taut and feverish, making her quiver with desire. She recalled winding a hand into Dream-Satsuki’s hair, forcing her mouth up and onto her breasts, forcing her to pay homage to the rosy little buds of her nipples, breathy sighs of appreciation whimpering from her mouth as Satsuki swirled her tongue around one, teeth catching it in a teasing little pinch that sent lightning bolts to her center. In the dream she pushed Satsuki onto her back, down onto the bed, driving the wind out of her. She remembered climbing her body like a conqueror, straddling her, crawling up to take a seat on her throne, thighs parted atop Satsuki’s waiting face and hungry mouth.

Fingers flicked faster, rolled with greater urgency over her hood as she rocked her hips. Now she felt as if she were in two places at once; here, masturbating on her bed with ferocious intensity and there, riding Satsuki’s face, tongue pressed flat to her clit as Jakuzure mauled her own breasts, cupping them both and sliding eager fingers up to pinch roughly at her nipples, making herself gasp. Every motion of Satsuki’s tongue against her was perfect, each lick and lap guided straight to that most sensitive spot that drew her orgasm closer with speed. She could feel the climax coming with an almost prescient clarity. She could see herself riding it out atop her face, her own expression twisted in agonized ecstasy. She could hear her shuddering breaths and the praise she would purr- _‘Good Girl’_ , those words that made Satsuki shudder in submissive pleasure no matter the occasion. She could see all this, feel it coming, all in the space of a moment. Then she glanced down and saw Satsuki staring up at her, lower half of her face concealed by Jakuzure’s hips. What she could see of Satsuki’s face was twisted in an appalling mixture of fury, disappointment and sorrow, eyebrows furrowed darkly into a glare. The sheer hatred in those eyes shocked her suddenly into wakefulness as if someone had doused her in ice-water.

In the present time, Jakuzure swore as her fingers slipped again and her climax danced away, twitching itself out of reach tauntingly.

“F-fucking shit!” she cursed, switching hands and trying desperately to vary her caresses, trying to coax her body into cooperation with her mind. But when she tried to fantasize, tried to think of the dream- all she could think of was that horrible glare. Abandoning the dream, she cast her mind back to memories;

_Satsuki on her knees, worshipping her pussy with her mouth._

_Satsuki on her desk, getting fucked hard and loving it._

_Satsuki staring at her across the table after her second safe-word._

_‘I don’t ever want to feel that way again.’_

_Wait, shit, that isn’t right!_ Jakuzure thought, thrusting the unpleasant idea away.

_Satsuki’s tongue sliding across the sole of her foot, those pouting lips kissing at her toes._

_Satsuki’s little gasp of surprised pleasure as a finger slid almost delicately into her backside, making her moan._

_Satsuki clawing at her nightshirt, sobbing in the midst of a night terror, screaming her name._

_No, NO, sexy thoughts, sexy thoughts!_ Jakuzure scolded herself, frustrated beyond reason, _Damn it!_

_Satsuki begging for her orgasm, stretched out in a beam of moonlight, looking wild and fey._

_Satsuki shuddering under her riding crop’s caress, her back and buttocks slashed with red and pink marks._

_Satsuki frowning at her, arms folded, her normally placid face twisted in anger and annoyance._

_Satsuki stumbling over the three little words Jakuzure wanted to hear most._

_Satsuki, Satsuki, Satsuki- Satsuki multiplying in her memories, every memory good and bad together, until a swarm of them surrounded her like a shoal of piranha, faces twisted in ecstasy and anger._

_One Satsuki stepped forward, as if to embrace her. Then she brought a hand sharply across her face._

_“I said- Fucking. Go. Away!”_

Jakuzure jerked her hand up, bringing it to her cheek as if she’d been slapped a second time. Her chest raised and lowered heavily, breath coming in uneven gasps. Her shoulders shuddered and her muscles relaxed bonelessly, body slumping back against the bed in a heap.

“Goddamn it… I fucked up.” she swore quietly and without heat.

It looked like she wasn’t going to be finding any release today. The more she tried, the harder she tried, the further off it seemed to be. Sighing, she surrendered to the inevitable.

“I hope Satsuki is having a better morning than me.” She murmured, kicking her soaking underwear off her feet, clambering out of bed to stumble zombie-like into the shower.

 

* * *

 

 

Satsuki groaned as the hot water massaged the aching tension from between her shoulders, from her back and thighs. She ran her hands up through her hair, still marveling at the way her head felt so light and free without the curtain of heavy locks running down her back. Her hair was growing out slowly, having not even reached her shoulders, and she hadn’t decided whether or not to cut it. It was several minutes of dreary contemplation of the subject that alerted her that she was deliberately trying to avoid thinking about her dream. She could still feel her arousal if she lowered her guard; feel it hovering in the back of her mind, in the base of her stomach- waiting for her to give in, waiting for her to surrender to it. Almost angrily she shampooed her hair, massaging her scalp a little harder than necessary in an effort to ease away the beginnings of a headache.

 

* * *

 

 

Jakuzure huffed out a breath as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel. She dried herself with quick, efficient motions, trying desperately to ignore the burning frustration in the pit of her stomach.

“This better not be a running thing.” she grumbled, “I’ll go crazy, I swear to god.”

Pulling on fresh underwear, she rummaged through her drawers, pulling out a black sports-bra that she tugged down over her head and adjusted over her modest breasts, twisting it this way and that until it was comfortable. Over that went a white tank-top, then she glanced around and frowned. Minutes passed as she threw clothes from drawers and closet, muttering and swearing in frustration.

“For fuck’s sake, where are my running shorts? I’ve seen them four fucking times when I didn’t need them, and now they’re gone?! Satsuki will be here…any…minute…” she trailed off, her voice going quieter and quieter. In its absence the silence in the room quickly became deafening.

 _It doesn’t feel real. Still doesn’t, even now,_ she thought, _It’s only been a week after all._

Slowly she pulled the tank top back up over her head, casting it aside a little harder than necessary, the sports-bra joining it moments later. She changed slowly into more casual clothes in complete silence, concentrating hard on each mundane task, as if doing so would allow her to forget about what had happened.

 

* * *

 

 

Satsuki mindlessly took another bite of toast, feeling it crumble in her mouth. It was perfectly cooked, spread with just the right amount of butter and the bread was a special brand from overseas that she had a weakness for. For all that, she could have been eating cardboard for all the attention she paid it, chewing and swallowing mechanically, her tea going cold on the table beside her. Her gaze was resting on the clock sat on one wall, its hands declaring the time to be six forty-five exactly. She stared at it as if by doing so she could make it stop, or perhaps speed up.

 _Either would be preferable to this dreadful silence_ , she thought, _eating up my life minute by minute_.

She took another bite of toast and cushioned her head on her hand.

_Nearly seven. I’d be on my way to Jakuzure’s house for our morning run today. I wonder what she’s doing instead._

She shook her head and swallowed, the food like ash in her mouth.

_It’s odd how easy it is to become accustomed. To fall into a routine. To fall in-_

She bit off the thought suddenly and dropped the crust of her bread onto the plate. Standing, she hobbled to the sink, trying to keep pressure away from her twisted ankle. If the memories of Jakuzure were bad, prone to pressing in on her, intruding on her life like noisy phantoms then this ankle was a worse reminder yet. Every step she took was a reminder of what she’d lost, what she’d thrown away. She was stood there a long time, fingers moving the sponge mechanically over the plate, water running down over her fingers until they wrinkled into those of an old woman. Moving would mean putting weight on that foot, and that meant remembering. Better to stand here, better not to move at all. But standing still or not, time kept moving- minute by minute, second by second, ready or not. Behind her the clock gently chimed the hour. Satsuki sighed and turned on one heel, hobbling back towards her bedroom.

 

* * *

 

 

Jakuzure sat at her desk, pens and paper scattered in a swathe around her- fragments of song, lines of melodies and half jotted scores sat curling into a wide, twisting arc like some bizarre snake with a body of paper and scales of ink. Currently it was hissing its warning in the sound of crumpling paper. Jakuzure tossed the half sketched bars aside and pulled a fresh sheet towards herself. While her pen scratched out the beginnings of a melody, she composed a letter in her head.

_I know that there must be something I can say. Some way to fix this fuck up. I just can’t find it._

The melody took a turn for the minor, repeating scales blurring into a faster, more intricate section.

_If I could just make her understand that…ugh, what use is it if I don’t even know what it is I want to show her?_

The minor section blurred, atonal notes creeping in, dissonance rising- first _forte_ , then _fortissimo_.

_Maybe I pressed too hard. Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested moving in. Maybe I should keep my stupid emotions in check when we play._

Her mind flickered back to their last session, and she winced. Her pen skidded sideways, leaving a slash of ink like a knife’s edge across the paper, slurring notes into an unruly jumble.

_Damn it, I really did fuck up. If I could just…_

Without thinking, she lifted her phone, flicked it on with a touch.

The last few messages in their history were not exactly inspiring stuff.

 

_We need to talk._

_-11:40 (15-09-21)_

_Okay, your place?_

_-11:41_

_No. Somewhere public. Tokorozawa Café?_

_-11:41_

_…Sure. Satsuki, what’s up?_

_-11:43_

_12 o’clock?_

_-11:44_

_Yeah that’s okay. Satsuki, what’s up, really?_

_-11:44_

_You’re starting to worry me._

_-11:45_

_Really giving me the silent treatment, huh?_

_-11:46_

_Alright, I’ll see you there._

_-11:46_

Her fingers hovered over the ‘new message’ box. The cursor flickered on the screen, inviting her to pour her thoughts out into words. Had Satsuki already gotten her letter? Had she read it? What if she told Soroi to throw it away? What if she threw it away herself? What if she’d cast it into the fire in a rage like some kind of bad TV drama?

 

She realized that she was just putting off composing the message and frowned suddenly, shaking her head.

Fingers poised, she aligned her thoughts in her head until she thought she knew what to write.

Her index finger descended, ready to strike a key, ready to pour her heart out into the text.

The gentle tones of Debussy’s _Clair de Lune_ startled her so badly that the vibration of the phone was enough to send it tumbling to the floor, buzzing on the carpet as the sorrowful piano piece that was her text tone came to an end.

“Holy shit.” she said, panting with sudden adrenaline, “That scared the _shit_ out of me!”

For a few seconds she felt utterly abashed, flushing in embarrassment at her overreaction, but then realization hit and she scrambled for the phone with fingers made clumsy by apprehension. She messed up the unlock sequence twice before she tapped herself back to the message page.

_One New Message._

Her eyes widened and she tapped the alert, biting her lip anxiously as the screen changed to reveal-

_Yo, any1 up 4 drinks tonite!? –Monkey_

Her face went blank. Dimly she heard a harsh, grating sound, almost as if someone were grinding their teeth togeth- oh, that was her. Sanageyama’s phone only rang twice before he answered with a cheery greeting.

By the time she’d verbally ripped his throat out and fed him his own intestines, she felt a little better.

 

* * *

 

 

Meanwhile, Satsuki was breaking the habit of a lifetime. For the first time she could remember, she had returned to her bed in the middle of the morning. Lying on her back in the center of her mattress feeling lost, she thumbed through her phone, reading and yet not reading the endless information available from it. Without thinking, her fingers danced through the instincts of boredom to her contacts page. She caught herself just as the ‘New Message’ screen for Jakuzure popped into view. Anxiously she squinted at the phone.

 _It couldn’t be that easy,_ she thought, _could it?_

Her fingers twitched, hesitated, twitched again.

_I could apologize. But damn it, what do I have to apologize for?!_

The memory of her hand hitting Jakuzure’s cheek flashed through her thoughts and she flushed with guilt.

_Alright, but she isn’t exactly innocent in this. I could…maybe I could extend an olive branch._

She ran a hand through her still damp hair. This wasn’t like her. She’d always known what to say before.

 _Jakuzure, what have you done to me?_ She asked herself, _You’ve made me into a complete moron._

She took a deep breath and let it out through her teeth. She was delaying and she knew it.

 

“Alright…” she murmured, putting her thoughts into place, “…Dear Nonon…”

Her phone buzzed and promptly juddered its way out of her startled grasp, landing squarely on her face.

“Gah!” she squawked inelegantly, rolling to one side and grabbing at the slim square with one hand. Quickly she navigated her way to the phone’s message screen a second time, composing herself, nodding in approval.

 _It’s about time you apologized, Nonon,_ she thought firmly, _Maybe now I can-_

Her face went blank as she opened the message;

 

_Yo, any1 up 4 drinks tonite!? –Monkey_

 

Sanageyama’s phone kept ringing, despite her urgent need to thoroughly correct her subordinate about the protocols for polite communication through mass texting; (i.e. _Don’t_ ), so she had to console herself by leaving him a voicemail message so scathing that depending on the moisture level in the room it stood a decent chance of setting his hair alight. Breathing hard, she tossed her phone to one side in frustration, no longer in the right frame of mind to forgive anyone.

 

* * *

 

 

Jakuzure sat back in her chair, breathing just as heavily. Somewhere across town, Sanageyama sat dazed in his computer chair, ears still ringing from a verbal assault the likes of which had never been seen, possibly because there had been no previous survivors.

“What the hell is her problem?” he wondered, flicking through his phone, “Oh, Lady Satsuki left me a voice message! Let’s see-”

 

Among the land of the living, Jakuzure ran both hands through her hair and spat a steady stream of monotonous curses until she felt controlled enough not to kill somebody.

“Well that’s that.” She said, “There’s no way I’m going to manage talking to Satsuki today. What the fuck do I do now? For that matter, what was I even going to say? Sorry I think you’re too sensitive? Sorry you have intimacy issues?” her voice turned low and bitter, “Sorry I treated you like your mother did?”

The last thought brought bile up to her throat and she looked down, flushing guiltily.

“Shit, I didn’t mean that. Damn it, what is up with me today? Satsuki was right to kick my ass to the curb if I’ve been acting like this.” she said, biting her lip. Suddenly, an idea blossomed in her mind.

“Oh, that’s it! I’ll actually do what she said! I’ll give her some space. I won’t disappear, I’ll just…back off a bit.” she nodded, pleased with the idea. Then she paused, biting her lip.

“Still,” she mused, “she’s going to be laid up for a few days with that twisted ankle. Maybe a small gift or two? Something nice for a relaxing evening.”

Her mind started whirring dangerously with gift ideas- Jakuzure Nonon was, it was safe to say, more than slightly spoiled as a child, and as such was extremely good at showering people with gifts. And even as a child, she’d saved the best and most thoughtful gifts for Satsuki.

 

 _And if I’m going to give her a gift,_ she thought deviously, _then adding a little note couldn’t hurt, right?_

 

Smiling for the first time in a week, she pulled a fresh piece of paper towards herself and started to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Sanageyama, world’s worst mass-texting buddy.
> 
> Things you didn’t know you didn’t care about;  
> 1) Yes, the elite four text each other constantly.  
> 2) Yes, Sanageyama is a group-text whore  
> 3) Satsuki doesn’t know how to leave a group text  
> 4) Jakuzure’s text-tone is the most recognizable part of Clair de Lune  
> 5) Satsuki’s text-tone is the phone default. She once legitimately asked Jakuzure why other people had her ring-tone. Jakuzure laughed for a full minute before realizing Satsuki wasn’t joking. The ensuing argument lasted all day.
> 
> Thanks for reading; as always, views, kudos and comments are much appreciated! 
> 
> Seriously, I live off of comments, so let me know what you think! Ask questions, share your theories and favourites, whatever!  
> But above all, just thank you for reading. I never thought I'd end up writing a word that someone would want to read, so I thank you all from the bottom of my heart~


	3. On the Other Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always like this with them; Hot and Cold, Black and White, Back and Forth.  
> Gifts, dreams and girlfriends. This time we see the other side of the relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! 
> 
> This chapter contains semi-graphic Ragyou moments of non-consensual sexual touching.  
> Please be careful, and only continue if that's not a problem for you.

Date: September 29th

 

The high, sorrowful and familiar strains of a single horn wound its way through Satsuki’s sitting room like a slow, grave dance. She sat in her cushioned armchair, her foot propped up on a stool, bulky and hobbled within an adhesive icepack. A cup of tea was cradled idly in her hands as muted conversation took place on screen. She barely noticed, lost in the music and the memory.

 

_“Say whatever you want,” Jakuzure argued, “but ‘The Godfather’ has the best leitmotif of all time.”_

_“Leitmotif? You speak German now?” Satsuki raised her eyebrow._

_“It’s a technical term. It’s when a character or a theme gets its own little melody. So whenever…godfather-y stuff happens they play that horn bit. Y’know, Daaa da da daaaaaa da da daaaaa.”_

_Satsuki chuckled, shaking her head in amusement._

_“For a musician, your terminology is a little…childish. Don’t you have a degree in this?”_

_Jakuzure slapped her arm lightly in mock reproach._

_“Of course I have a degree in this, and for your information, I’m just dumbing it down for you!”_

_“Dumbing it down for me? You’d need a stepladder and a pair of stilts to reach my level.”_

_“Oh my wounded heart. Shush, you’re missing the best bit!”_

_“You started talking…” Satsuki murmured, shaking her head again._

She took a small sip of her tea, feeling its bitter, heady flavor rush over her tongue. She sighed and tried to relax, shaking off the thoughts of other days. For a time she was silent and still, letting her attention sink into the film.

 

_“You don’t ask with respect. You don’t offer friendship. You don’t even think to call me Godfather.”_

Satsuki nodded, drowsing in her chair. The nerve of the man.

_“You come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married and you ask me to do murder for money.”_

Satsuki shook her head. Such disrespect. If she’d discovered this movie earlier, she could have used it as a reference at Honnouji Academy, she mused. Don Corleone was a man who knew how to command respect.

A knock startled her into wakefulness, and Soroi’s familiar rasp came to her ears.

“A young woman dropped this off for you, my Lady.”

Satsuki cocked her head.

“A young woman? Do I _know_ this young woman?” she asked, a sneaking suspicion forming in her mind as Soroi offered her a small paper bag adorned with the scrolling motif of a small bakery Satsuki was fond of. Soroi hesitated, and the suspicion bloomed into revelation. She huffed out a breath of annoyance.

“Nonon.” she said flatly.

“Yes my lady.” he echoed, bowing stiffly, “Should I dispose of it for you?” His tone was _almost_ brusque. It wasn’t his place to offer an opinion on any associate of Kiryuin Satsuki, but his offer showed a streak of paternal protectiveness that brought the ghost of a smile to her face. From him, such a subtle gesture was akin to a threat of bodily harm from a father to an ex-boyfriend. Still, she shook her head, dismissing him with a wave.

“No, no, I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Soroi.”

He bowed once more and was gone without a sound. She paused, staring at the doorway. She really did need to find out how he moved so silently in a house rife with creaking floorboards.

Slowly, her gaze returned to the small paper bag. With a measure of trepidation she reached inside and pulled forth a plain card box of elegant design and scrollwork that the bakery used to hold their products.

It was not like Jakuzure to buy her presents- she generally chose to take her places whenever there was a special occasion. It made sense as there was very little that Satsuki wanted that she didn’t already own, and the thoughtful trips and experiences had been very dear to her. But if presents were rare, apologies were almost unheard of. The two apparently together made her extremely worried. She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

“If this is a glitter bomb, Nonon, you’re a dead woman.” Satsuki said, then without further ado she gripped both edges of the box and pulled. Catastrophe failed to materialize. Disaster failed to strike. Relieved but strangely disappointed, she glanced down at the box’s contents.

_Oh, a specialty biscuit selection. That’s surprisingly thoughtful._

She stared down at them, smiling very slightly before placing them on the arm of her chair, where she could reach them as she watched the flickering screen before her. Daintily, she chose a wafer thin biscuit topped with slivered almonds and nibbled at it, letting her attention sink back into the affairs of the Don.

 

_I can’t believe she got me an apology gift. That’s so unlike her._

“Don Corleone, I am honored and…grateful that you have invited me…to your home on the…on the wedding day of your daughter…”

_Heh, he sounds like Gamagoori. Broad shoulders, incapable of public speaking without yelling. Maybe we could dress Sanageyama as Sonny and Inumuta as the consigliere and attend the next costume party Mako throws…_

Idly, she reached down to nibble at another of the sweet wafers, her favorites, but instead of delicious wafer she felt something soft and papery beneath her fingers. Confused, she searched with her fingers; where another of her favorite biscuits _should_ be was a folded scrap of card. She quirked an eyebrow at it, irritated.

_Jakuzure…_

Sighing, she tugged the paper up towards her eye-level, not wanting to take her attention wholly away from the film. It was just a scrap of paper, but it bore a message in a looping hand that was instantly recognizable as Jakuzure’s. She read the message, twice, her vision narrowing until it encompassed only that small line of text. The paper dropped from numb fingers as she began to chuckle, low in her throat, rising into a laugh. Clumsily, she shut the box before she knocked it over onto the carpet, her shoulders shaking with a kind of resigned laughter, her hand raised to cover her mouth. It was almost a full minute before she felt the warm wetness of a tear starting to slide down her cheek and she realized that she was both laughing and crying, tears glittering across her cheeks in the light from the television. From where she sat, the paper’s message was still visible;

 

_Doesn’t it feel like there’s something missing?             -N_

 

Time passed, second by second, minute by minute as she struggled to get her rampant emotions under control. Finally, she sniffled noisily and cleaned away the tracks of tears with a tissue, shaking her head to try and clear it, her laughter fading with the motion. She slumped back in her chair and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. One delicate hand slipped fingers around the scrap of paper and lifted it to the light.

“Oh, Nonon.” Satsuki sighed, a small, sad smile crossing her face, “If that’s the way you want it…”

 

* * *

 

 

Date: October 12th

 

“Come on Jakuzure, I would like my hard-drive back sometime today.” the man’s voice was calm, collected.

“Cool it, doggy! I have a lot of keys, alright?!” In contrast, woman’s was anything but.

“Have you considered, oh I don’t know, labelling them?” the man’s voice suggested, irritated.

“I considered it, then I thought of you sitting at your table with nothing better to do than label your keys and I almost died of sheer pity.” snapped the woman.

“Well that’s- Jakuzure, its open.” Inumuta Houka said with a frown.

Jakuzure glanced up from her key-ring to her front door, or more specifically the handle, which turned easily in Inumuta’s grip. They paused there a moment, sharing a long glance.

“That can’t be good.” said Jakuzure

“Uh uh.” Inumuta echoed, shaking his head.

Without a word, Inumuta raised his other hand, fingers together into the faintest resemblance of a knife’s edge. His body turned just so, raising to the balls of his feet, his posture moving from slouching teen to waiting predator. Meanwhile, Jakuzure reached into her back pocket and withdrew a slim, bright pink canister. He gave her a questioning look.

“Still carrying mace?” he murmured approvingly under his breath.

“A girl should be prepared.” she whispered back, “On three?”

He nodded.

“One”

“Two.”

“THREE!” they yelled together as Inumuta slammed his foot into the door, kicking it inwards with an echoing boom as it hit the inside wall. They sprang into the hallway with raised hands and dangerous expressions. The headlong rush slid into a sudden, panicked halt as they surveyed the condition of Jakuzure’s apartment.

 

“ _…Holy…_ ” Jakuzure breathed, wonderingly.

 

Scarlets, pinks and whites blended together in a cacophony of color that ranged from the purest alabaster to the deepest blood red. The riotous colors and scents of them were overpowering, a combined visual and olfactory assault that hammered at the eyes and nose without mercy.

“Hm.” Inumuta said, trying not to look ruffled as he stepped up next to Jakuzure, “There might as well be a giant neon sign flashing the words _‘Romantic Gesture’_.” he said dryly.

Jakuzure said nothing. That alone drew his attention and his gaze, which revealed her stunned, stricken face- mouth half open, her cheeks flushed pink and the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

“Jakuzure…are you alright?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“I…” she trailed off, voice a hollow echo of her usual irritated squeak, “I have no idea.”

 

The apartment was covered, carpeted, _consumed_ by roses. Vast bundles of them sat on every available surface- on the table, the kitchen counters and the bookshelves. Heavy heads drooped from where they sat in every shoe on the wooden rack by the door, out of the pocket of every coat. The floor was carpeted in rose petals in patterns of red and white and pink in swirling, hypnotic designs. Jakuzure took a small step forward, enough to clear her hallway, enough to confirm her suspicions; her whole apartment had been liberally coated in the lustrous flowers. She huffed out a breath of disbelief as she saw tied bundles of roses peeping from every crevice of her instruments- from a single white rose poking out her flute to more than three dozen crimson roses in a glorious bouquet arranged in her tuba.

 

“Satsuki…” she whispered, her eyes wide. A shuffling noise alerted her to Inumuta’s presence by her side.

“So is this how Satsuki shows affection?” he asked dryly, “Or did you do something nice?”

“We’re on a break, actually…” she murmured, embarrassed, “I may have started something.”

Inumuta shook his head in disbelief.

“I would have thought that you of all people would know Lady Satsuki better than that. Let me guess, you’re trying to win her back. This looks like her idea of a counter-attack.”

“Shut up, four-eyes.”

“I’ll take that as confirmation I’m on the right track. There’s probably a message somewhere. She likes to get the last word in.”

A thump made her look up. Inumuta had deposited his bag in the least petal strewn area of floor and was cracking his knuckles.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you clean up, obviously. Unless you want to live like this until they start to rot.”

“…thanks.” she said, abashed.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Yeah I know, but-“

“No, seriously don’t mention it. I don’t want Shirou getting any ideas for Valentine’s Day.”

 

The cleanup took _hours_. Working from the hallway to the living room alone took almost an hour, gathering roses, bundling them with tape or wire and stuffing them into vases. Seeing as Jakuzure didn’t actually own any vases, this meant glasses. Once they were out of those, they used bowls. Then pots. Then anything that could hold water. By the time they were into the living room, they’d run out of even those, and a couple of frantic texts sent Gamagoori and Sanageyama to the nearest store for buckets. The carpet of petals went into a couple of heavy black garbage bags by the front door, which lay open to give them some fresh air and a relief from the powerful scent of roses that was starting to give them both a headache.

It was around that time that they discovered Satsuki had ordered the roses with thorns intact.

“Ah, fuck!” Jakuzure swore, shaking one hand as she was pricked for what felt like the hundredth time, “If I get jabbed by another thorn, I’m going to kill myself. And maybe Satsuki as well. I haven’t decided yet. Give me those fucking gloves right now, Doggy!”

“I think not.” Inumuta demurred, shaking his head, “I offered to help out, I get the gloves. That’s only fair.”

“Oh come on, that is the opposite of fair! When we finish the living room, we switch off!”

“Not a chance.”

“Fuck this, I’m going to see if I have any more gloves in my room.” Jakuzure said, standing up and dusting herself off. Her knees were stained red with crushed petals and her tan shorts were practically ruined. She shambled into her bedroom in a haze. Or at least she tried. She came to a screeching halt as she entered the room. Flowers were stuffed in every nook and cranny, in her pencil holder, over her desk- a bundle was even neatly slotted in her computer’s open CD tray. The bed however, was what drew her to a halt. It was carpeted in rose petals, but atop the layered mound of petals sat a single bouquet, larger and glossier than the others, the loosely furled petals of it a beautiful cotton candy pink. Their slender green stems were tied at the base with a pink ribbon from which hung a simple card of thick, creamy white paper. Jakuzure stepped hesitantly toward the bouquet before scooping it up into her arms. Without knowing why, she leaned in close and inhaled. Then a slow, warm smile crossed her face.

 

Through some trick of the florist or botanist’s art, they smelled of cotton candy too. She shifted the bouquet into the crook of her arm and lifted the card in unsteady fingers. The faintest waft of Satsuki’s perfume tickled her nose through the aroma of roses and cotton candy. The expensive looking card bore only a single sentence, written with an equally expensive fountain pen in a deep blue ink. It said-

 

_Isn’t this a little smothering?           -S_

  
She stood there- dirty, tired and sweating, hands scratched by thorns and head aching from the scent of roses. And, she was smiling like a complete and utter moron.

“Well played, Satsuki. Well played.” she murmured, bending her face down to the bouquet again.

 

* * *

 

Date: October 30th

 

_Fingers danced lightly across Satsuki’s stomach, trailing across the smooth, pale expanse like figure-skaters she’d once seen as a child, her tiny hands lifting herself clumsily up to see over the barrier separating the crowd from the rink. She’d marveled at how graceful they were, how effortlessly they moved in time to the sweeping music. Silently, she had sworn that she would be as graceful as they were, one day. Those motions were no less graceful now as soft fingertips traced through the thin, fine dark hair at the apex of Satsuki’s thighs. There they split, two and two, delaying the moment that, like sinking into a warm bath would part her lips in a soft sigh of pleasure. Instead they trailed sideways, sliding down the breadth of her thighs, nails scratching ever so lightly in the suggestion of sharper pleasures. Satsuki’s body was supine- stretched out catlike, arms above her head, fingers entwined in sheets, legs together and toes pointed just so, en pointe towards the foot of the bed. She panted softly, trying not to move. A troublesome thought drifted by in the back of her mind, like the impression of a fish darting through deep water, sending up ripples to the surface._

_Fingers ran down the rivers and pathways of her skin, tracing over the hills and valleys of her body. They ran close to her center before pulling away, provoking little half-gasps and frustrated breaths. Fingernails slowly entrenched themselves along her thighs, digging in, turning the teasing to torment, drawing a sharper gasp from her unwilling lips. That thought repeated, nagging at her now, the faintest trickle of some other emotion seeping into her conscious mind. The fingers clenched, digging the nails in deeper, until knuckles turned white. She rocked her head back and her eyes fluttered closed as pleasure and pain swirled in hypnotic patterns behind her lowered lids. The thought came more urgently, tugging at her consciousness. Something was wrong. This dream was familiar, true, but wrong, like a masquerade- an imitation of the familiar, a wolf in sheep’s clothing._

_“Don’t try to hold back. Surrender to me.” A voice whispered._

_It was not Jakuzure’s voice._

_Her eyes flew open and met the swirling iridescence of her mother’s manic gaze._

_She opened her mouth to scream, but Kiryuuin Ragyou’s other hand closed hard over her face, slender fingers as tough as iron as they sealed around her mouth, and all that came out was a horrified, muffled sound more animal than human._

_“Now, now.” Her mother chided, her face set in calm fury, “Don’t be so ungrateful for a mother’s love, Satsuki dear; there are plenty of girls out there that wish they were so lucky!”_

_She screamed again, louder, and her hands came up to smash against the woman’s face and chest. Except, they didn’t. Half-way, bonds of glowing red circled her wrists and cut in deep, drawing blood. She would have screamed in pain as the life-fibers bound her to the bed, but then again, she was already screaming._

_A thigh pressed between hers, forcing her legs apart._

_Slowly, inexorably, Ragyou’s hand slid down the supple length of her stomach, brushing fingers through the hair of her mons. Satsuki clenched her teeth and began to cry. It wasn’t the pain she feared. It was the pleasure that followed it._

_It was hopeless._

_It was useless._

_She always lost, after all-_

Consciousness returned in a sudden rush, and she flung herself upright in her bed, throwing aside constricting sheets and tangling blankets with frantic, jerky motions. Her heart was hammering like a freight train and no matter how fast she took in air, it wasn’t enough. Sweat covered her like a second skin over paradoxical goosebumps and fear. Tears ran down her face, under eyes opened wide in complete, oblivious terror.

_Nonon!_

It took her a second to realize she hadn’t spoken. She looked around wildly, sure that she was still in the dream despite awakening, no longer knowing what was real and what was not; glancing everywhere and nowhere with eyes that were not truly seeing.

“Nonon!” she gasped, arms sliding along the bed as if seeking her. There was no warmth beside her, no crumpled sheets or comforting weight. She ran her hands along the entire length and breadth of the huge mattress, her breaths coming faster and faster as she found no trace of her.

_She’s gone. What if Ragyou took her? Took her to get to me? What if Nui took her? What if Nui killed her, just like she killed Ryuko’s father?! What if she’s going to take everyone we love?! No, what if she was kidnapped!? They’ll torture her, they’re hurt her, Ragyou will-_

Her breath turned into a strangled, hoarse gasp as a landslide of memory and history poured into her mind.

_Ragyou is dead. Nui is dead. It is not then, it is now. Jakuzure is not here because…because she is not here._

She shook her head, breathing hard but not deep. Frightened to the bone, she repeated her manta;

_F-fear is freedom. Control is liberty. Contradiction is truth. Kiryuuin Ragyou is dead, and what is dead cannot hurt you._

She could think now, and with a hard enough effort she could understand her current situation, though it was like slogging uphill in the dark.

_I’m having a panic attack. Just a panic attack. I can breathe, I just don’t think I can breathe._

The words made sense, but her body ignored them and kept up the short, shallow breaths of desperation that were starting to make her lungs ache. She recalled Jakuzure’s soothing voice, her hand placed lightly over Satsuki’s diaphragm as she recited from a therapy book.

_“Sigh for me.”_

_“Sigh for you?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow that Jakuzure couldn’t see._

_“Yep, sigh. Like Monkey just said something really stupid.”_

_Satsuki chuckled and then did so, sighing slowly. Jakuzure’s hand covered her own on her diaphragm, while her other now pressed lightly to her shoulders._

_“Sigh out your breath. Not all of it, just feel your breathing. Relax your shoulders. Feel the tension leaving?”_

_Satsuki did as she was told, nodding her head as she did._

_“Close your mouth?” she instructed, and Satsuki did so, “Now hold for a count of three. Then push your stomach out and breathe in through your nose. Feel it happen through your hands. Put your free hand on your stomach if it helps. Good, just like that. Now hold again.”_

_Satsuki felt her diaphragm and stomach flex against her hands, the meditative like breathing slowing her heartrate despite Jakuzure’s hands on her._

_That’s probably a first, she thought with a smile._

_“Open your mouth and exhale for me now.” Jakuzure said softly, her own breath brushing Satsuki’s ear. She parted her lips and started to breathe out slowly. Jakuzure kissed her neck softly, her voice gaining a pleased edge._

_“Good girl.” she murmured, making Satsuki shiver, “There we go.”_

_“And this will help if I panic again?” she asked, her hand moving from her stomach to twine her fingers with Jakuzure’s hand sitting on her shoulder._

_“It will.” Jakuzure said firmly, giving her hand a squeeze, “Even if I’m not around. Just concentrate on the feeling of the muscles you’re breathing with. The distraction will help reduce the panic you feel.”_

_Satsuki turned around, muscles shifting as she lifted Jakuzure into her lap._

_“My personal therapist.” she said fondly, kissing her slowly, languorously._

_“My personal patient.” Jakuzure chuckled, tilting her head down to kiss her again._

 

Panicking and in the present, she recalled the advice, hand pressing to her diaphragm, the other to the base of her stomach. Out. Hold. In. Hold. Out. Repeat. The measured breathing and the flex of muscles under her fingers helped her control the frantic breaths that afflicted her, air finally returning to her lungs and circulating properly as her heartrate slowed to something merely heavy compared to the frantic pounding of earlier. It took several minutes, but by the end of it she was herself again- coated with sweat, hair stuck out wildly, but herself. She flopped back onto the bed with a sigh of exhaustion, adrenaline racing through her veins unneeded, setting her fingers to shaking, muscles trembling. She reached over to her nightstand and groped around in the dark until she found her phone and flicked it on. Its glowing face told her it was 2 o’clock in the morning and that she had no new messages. Navigating clumsily to her contacts page, she hovered her finger once more over Jakuzure’s number. Break-up or not, she could do with a friendly voice. Surely she would answer? Surely she would understand?

 

_But what if she doesn’t? She thought with a quiver of worry, What if she’s upset I woke her up? Or worse, upset about everything else? If she hung up on me I think I might die._

Her finger got closer and closer until it was almost brushing the screen. Then it slid down and tapped lightly against a different name. Her phone beeped accordingly.

_Calling… [ Matoi Ryuko (Nee-san) ] it declared in glowing letters._

The phone rang less than a half-dozen times before someone picked up.

“Yo, what’s up Satsuki?” Ryuko’s voice was a balm even in its casual, bored tone. In the background she could hear men and women grunting and yelling. For a moment she thought that Ryuko was at a gym, or maybe at some kind of bizarre fight club, but then she heard a loud and resounding ‘K.O!’

“Ah, shit.” Ryuko swore, without heat. A high-pitched voice in the background pierced the air.

“Ryuko-chan is so baaaad at this game~!” Mankanshoku Mako sang cheerfully.

“Tickling me is cheating!” Ryuko said firmly, “So anyway, what’s up Satsuki? It’s not like you to be up at this hour!”

Satsuki gulped. Now that she’d actually called, she didn’t know what to say. She hesitated, and Ryuko picked up on her mood with a sister’s intuition and a concerned edge entered her voice.

“ _Sats?_ What’s the matter?” she asked, and Satsuki heard her move, footsteps echoing, and the sounds of the game growing faint. Finally a door closed, and the sound cut off completely.

“Okay, I’m alone. Did something happen?” she asked, and Satsuki bit her lip. Finally, she spoke.

“I…I just had a nightmare.”

“Yeah?” Ryuko asked, her voice careful, “Was it bad? Do you want to talk about it?”

Satsuki shook her head, then realized that the gesture could not be seen.

“No…I don’t know. It was R- our mother. She was…herself.”

Ryuko swore quietly and her voice gained a calming, supportive air.

“Look, Nee-san, I know what she did. She did the same to me, or some of it. I understand, it’s okay.”

Satsuki sniffled, overcome at the gentle compassion in Ryuko’s voice.

“And besides.” Ryuko said cockily, “We won. She’d dead, and we’re not. We’re together, we’re a family again. And she _cannot_ hurt us anymore.” The last was said in a voice one step short from igniting the phone lines.

“…I know.” Satsuki sighed, the adrenaline retreating, leaving tiredness in its wake. “And yet…”

“I know, I know. It’s easy to say it.” Ryuko grumbled, “Harder to feel it. Look, what time is the get together tomorrow?”

There was a party, or rather, a small gathering of Satsuki’s friends set for tomorrow, a little Halloween get-together for their circle. Ryuko had insisted that they do something, over Satsuki’s objections.

“Seven, though some might be early. In fact, most of the elite’s will.”

“Heh, I can imagine Gamagoori being early. And Inumuta, the nerd. I can’t imagine Jakuzure being early though. She strikes me as the fashionably late type.” Satsuki stiffened and ran a hand through her hair.

“More like the fashionably not-attending type.” she said, trying to make it sound light and joking.

“Huh?! She’s not coming? She _never_ misses a party. Especially not one you’re attending!” Ryuko said, disbelief thick in her voice.

“Yes, well she’s not coming.” Satsuki said, hoping Ryuko wouldn’t press. In vain, it appeared.

“Realllllly now.” Ryuko said, drawing the word out, “And you’re not going to tell me what happened between the two of you, are you?”

“Nope.” Satsuki agreed easily.

“Pft, alright, I’ll weasel it out of you later with my little sister charm!” Ryuko said, chuckling, “Anyway, what I was trying to say was; how about I come by earlier and keep you company? If you wanna talk about stuff, we can. If not, we can just hang out. No pressure.” She said it lightly, and Satsuki could imagine all too easily the fake, diffident, ‘it’s okay, this doesn’t matter to me at all, just pick whatever’ face she would be making.

“That sounds nice.” she admitted, “In fact, I think I’d like that a lot.”

“Then I’ll be there.” Ryuko said, smile evident in her voice.

“Okay, I’m going back to bed.” said Satsuki, through most of a yawn.

“Cool. I’m gonna go kick Mako’s butt some more.”

“…Ryuko?”

“Yeah?”

“…thanks.”

 

“Anytime, nee-san.”

 

* * *

 

 

Date: October 31st

 

Satsuki’s living room was a quietly ostentatious place. It wasn’t that she flaunted her wealth or power, but everything in the room, from the finely textured wallpaper, to the historical painting hanging on one wall, to the exquisite mahogany furniture, to the marble bust of Aristophanes painted a simple, quietly elegant scene that carefully suggested that the owner of the room was not going to be having any trouble making the rent. Today however, it looked a little different. The mid-afternoon light still shined through the cracks in the heavy curtains, slicing up the wall in a thin arc, but it also illuminated the silhouette of a crescent moon that dangled from the curtain rail. The heavy gold-painted frame of the painting was adorned with what looked very much like cobwebs, hanging in silken tresses from the corners. A comically large black spider of fuzzy fabric sat atop the painting. It wore a witch’s hat cocked at a jaunty angle. Aristophanes was nowhere to be seen, his head hidden behind a gaudy and entirely tacky jack-o-lantern of orange and black plastic that glowed with less eldritch fire and more flickering 9-volt battery light. The war between the furnishings and the decorations was palpable. So too was the war between the room’s owner and her guest.

  
Satsuki sat primly on one side of the couch, her tea held just so. By her side, sprawled out like she thought the concept of personal space applied only to herself, was a woman of even height with her, a bright red bang swinging like a crescent between strands of black hair. She was wearing a pair of jeans that had presumably seen better days and a tight black t-shirt that bore a pair of skeletons and the cryptic message ‘ _2Spooky_ ’. She was also loudly eating peanuts by flicking them expertly from her fingertips to her mouth. On the flickering screen, a young teenage girl fled from a masked man in the most circuitous and least effective escape route ever captured on film. She let out a scream that was one quarter terror, three quarters bad acting and Satsuki’s mouth thinned into a line as she visibly tried to remain silent. Suddenly, in a twist that left Academy Award winners breathless, the girl tripped and fell to the ground. Her spinal cord apparently severed, she ceased any attempt to escape and just screamed as the masked man shuffled towards her in what must have been the slowest recorded serial killing in history. Satsuki finally reached her limit.

“Matoi, enough, this is appalling.”

“Are you kidding me!? Friday the 13th is a classic!”

“Friday the 13th _was_ a classic. However this is Friday the 13th Part 8: _the Quest for Money_. How on earth does anyone find this even remotely scary?”

“Well most people aren’t iron willed former Student Council Presidents who helped save the world!”

“Are you kidding me? Neither of those things have influenced my ability to not be scared by this movie. So far all I’m scared for is the future of the movie industry itself. And who even watches horror movies in the middle of the day anyway? Doesn’t that spoil the appeal?”

“Well _excuse me!_ I love horror movies.” Ryuko said with a huff, “We can do something else if you want! You wanna talk about your dream?”

“No thanks.” she said softly. Ryuko grinned and changed tack suddenly, her eyes glittering

“I know, we can talk about your love life!”

Satsuki visibly stiffened under Ryuko’s gaze.

“I’d rather not.” she said flatly.

“Fine.” Ryuko said easily, shrugging one shoulder negligently. Satsuki pressed on.

“I mean it, Ryuko, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I said fine didn’t I? Calm down, nee-san.”

“As long as you understand I don’t want to talk about it.” Satsuki said, mollified slightly.

“I understand, I understand! Jeez…”

 

Minutes passed as Jason Vorhees glacial serial killing spree continued in full gruesome assembly.

“Ryuko, please tell me this abomination flopped at the box office.”

“Nope.” Ryuko said, satisfaction in her tone as she flicked a peanut into her mouth from the can sitting in her lap, “Made twenty million.”

“There is no justice in this world.”

“Yeah yeah, hold on this bit’s great!”

“Oh my god, just run away. Or shoot him. Run away _and_ shoot him, either, both, just don’t lie there and scream.”

“Shush, I wanna hear this!”

“Why, does he murder the script too? The actresses certainly are!”

“Urgh, fine!” Ryuko slapped the remote with one hand, sending the television into sudden silence. She turned to Satsuki and gave her an intensely irritated look. Satsuki raised one eyebrow.

“So…” Ryuko asked, crunching on a handful of peanuts, “What’s up with Jakuzure? Did the two of you break up or something?”

Satsuki sighed and shook her head. She did have a policy of not lying to Ryuko. That didn’t mean that she had to tell her everything that happened in her life however.

“I _said_ I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I _said_ I wanted to watch Friday the 13th.”

Satsuki threw up her arms.

“You’re insufferable. Besides, we’re not dating.”

Quietly she scanned that sentence. Yes, that was technically true. Jakuzure never did care about labels.

 

 

_Satsuki let out a soft, contented sigh in the afterglow of their lovemaking. In such a state, her body felt as if she’d run a marathon and then slipped into a warm bath, every sensation multiplied ten-fold by the sensitive buzzing of her skin. She was intensely aware of Jakuzure’s skin against hers, unimpeded by frustrating clothes, of the way her breath huffed lightly against her neck, the way her modest breasts pressed to the slope of her back. She felt Jakuzure’s fingers slide across her hip, gripping possessively._

_“See, you might talk big,” her diminutive lover murmured, “But in bed, I’m the big spoon.”_

_“You are in no way a spoon, or big.” Satsuki muttered, placing her hand over Jakuzure’s._

_“I’m on the outside of the cuddle, therefore I’m the big spoon. Simple as.” she countered._

_“The big spoon is supposed to be big. That’s kind of the point. You just cling to my back like…like a koala.”_

_Jakuzure snorted out an indelicate laugh._

_“A koala!? Why, because I’m small and cuddly? Also, you do know you just cast yourself as a eucalyptus tree, right?” she asked, giving Satsuki’s hip a fond squeeze. Satsuki chuckled softly._

_“Yes, and? Eucalyptus oil smells wonderful. And the tree is toxic to almost every other animal but the koala.”_

_Jakuzure kissed her neck softly, the sensual heat of her lips making Satsuki shiver despite the warmth of the room. Her grip tightened around Satsuki’s body, arms winding around her waist, her chest._

_“Oh?” she asked, laughing, “Are you saying that you only want me to eat you?”_

_Satsuki flushed and let out a low chuckle, slapping at Jakuzure’s hand as she tried to grope one of her breasts._

_“God, you’re so crude. Maybe I just don’t want to expose you to anyone else.” she said mock-spitefully._

_“So you’re saying you want me to expose myself to you?” Jakuzure asked with playful innocence, her hand finding Satsuki’s breast again, cupping it in strong, slender fingers._

_Satsuki slapped her hand again, but this time only lightly._

_“Hopelessly crude.” she said, “But it raises an interesting point. What are we, if not koala and tree?”_

_“What do you mean, tree-girl?” Jakuzure asked, fingers tracing idly over Satsuki’s nipple, relishing the slight hitch in her voice as she replied._

_“W-well, are we girlfriends now? Dating? Are we ‘going out’?” Satsuki asked, and Jakuzure could almost hear the inverted commas around the last words. She chuckled._

_“You love me, right?” Jakuzure asked, her tone casual, off-hand._

_Satsuki bit her lip and hesitated for a fraction of a second too long to manage to sound casual, but she nodded._

_“I do. I love you.” she said it stiffly, but she meant it. It wasn’t easy for her to admit her feelings so openly, encapsulated in those three little words, but strangely it was easier the less clothes she was wearing. Jakuzure thought that while strange, it certainly made therapy more interesting._

_“And I love you.” Jakuzure replied, kissing her shoulder blade softly, “So we’re in love. Everything else is just labels. I don’t give a fuck about those.”_

 

Back in the present, Ryuko shrugged casually at Satsuki’s denial.

“Right, right. You’re not dating, I forgot.” she said, her voice dripping sarcasm, “But you’re wound tighter than a clock spring and I’m fed up with you snapping at me. Maybe you need to talk about it!”

Satsuki paused, a shade of guilt entering her voice as she met Ryuko’s eyes for a brief moment.

“I’m sorry…maybe talking about it would help. Urgh, I don’t know. It’s so confusing.” she said, lifting her cup to her lips. Ryuko nodded solemnly, then opened her mouth.

“So, did you stop fucking her or something?”

Satsuki’s mouthful of tea nearly redecorated the room, but sheer willpower kept it down as she coughed and spluttered into her cup with absolutely no elegance whatsoever. She gave her sister a _look_ before replying.

“What!?” Satsuki asked, her tone half disbelief, half embarrassed reticence. Ryuko’s only response was a hearty belly laugh at her situation, a wide smile crossing her face.

“Oh come on sis, you might think you’re Ms. Poker Face, but you have _no_ experience hiding this sort of thing. If you two looked at each other anymore intensely I’d fetch a bucket of ice-water.”

Satsuki flushed and looked away, irrational resistance rising in her voice.

“I don’t see how that means that we’re…” she said.

 

“Alright fine, I can see you remain skeptical…” Ryuko said, lifting her hand and waggling the fingers. Then she began to count off;

“First Miss Independent; you’re not exactly a people person, but you’re _always_ talking to her when she’s here. When she’s not here, you’re on your phone texting her and you _hate_ phones. Second, you hate casual touching, but when she’s here you’re always sat near her and you make every possible excuse to touch her…” Ryuko ticked off a pair of fingers in quick succession.

Satsuki felt her cheeks getting warmer.

“I thought I was more subtle than that…”

“Well, you’re not.” she said confidently. Then she gave Satsuki a wicked grin. “Plus when we were in your room earlier…do you normally keep your friends underwear under your bed?”

Satsuki clapped her hands over her mouth.

“What. I didn’t know tha-“

“Besides that, there were at _least_ three other pieces of her clothing in your bedroom that I saw, and I wasn’t even looking. I don’t think they were there because she was lendin’ em to you.” Ryuko grinned, ticking off another finger. Then, just when Satsuki felt like her face couldn’t get any redder, she tapped her pinky.

“Oh and since you don’t really wear a lot of makeup, you’re not _quite_ as good at hiding love bites as you think you are. I’m guessing she’s as much of a brat in the bedroom as out of it by the state of your neck this past year!”

 

_Oh god, kill me now._

Through her fingers, which were placed firmly over her face, she saw Ryuko wiggle her own, having run out of things to tick off. She was grinning, happy at managing to pierce her sister’s dignified façade.

“Have I made my point?” she asked gleefully.

“Yes, yes, enough already!” Satsuki mumbled, shaking her head in embarrassment.

Ryuko’s gaze fixed on something behind Satsuki and snorted, muffling a giggle.

“Oh, one last thing, really big giveaway- your laptop screensaver is a picture of you two kissing.”

Satsuki glanced up from behind her hands, cocking an eyebrow.

“Nice try, Ryuko, but I don’t have a screensaver.” Satsuki said, frowning. Ryuko kept grinning.

“Mhmmm. Whatever you say, nee-san.”

“Fine, I’ll humor you. Someone has to.”

Satsuki glanced over her shoulder to where her laptop sat on an end-table.

“See? No screensav- _What._ ”

 

Her normally plain laptop screen did indeed have a screensaver. Jakuzure and Satsuki were pressed close, their eyes closed in contentment as they shared a deep, lingering kiss. They were in a park, green grass and perfect blue sky outlined behind them. Jakuzure’s arm was extended to hold the camera, presumably her phone, out and slightly above the couple to best capture the kiss. Even more embarrassing, Jakuzure was stood flat on the ground, while it was Satsuki who was leaning daintily down to kiss her, Jakuzure’s other arm wound around her shoulders, using her as a support. Satsuki looked flustered and the two of them appeared very much the pair of young lovers.

 

“Honestly, it’s kinda cute.” Ryuko murmured at the edge of Satsuki’s hearing.

“Grrrrr….Nonon…” Satsuki growled under her breath.

 

_“Mm, you should kiss me.”_

_“Nonon, we’re in public!”_

_“So? No one knows who you are here! We’re just two beautiful young women out for a stroll.”_

_Satsuki snorted elegantly. “I’m still not kissing you.”_

_Jakuzure gave her a look, raising an eyebrow in an imitation of Satsuki._

_“Are you not?” she asked in a dangerously sultry tone._

_Satsuki looked away, an unconscious shiver dancing up her spine. Jakuzure let out a low satisfied chuckle._

_“And what if I don’t ask?” she all-but-purred, “What if I told you to kiss me?”_

_Satsuki swallowed nervously, taking a deep breath in through her nose and letting it out through her mouth. She kept walking._

_People went by- an old couple hand in hand, two children chasing a ball, a woman walking her dog._

_“And are you?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light, casual, “Telling me?”_

_Jakuzure put one finger to her lips as if in deep thought, her eyes sparkling mischievously._

_“I might be…” she murmured, “But a good girl wouldn’t need to be told…”_

_Her perfect pink lips caressed the words and set Satsuki’s blood to burning in her breast. The flame burned upwards to her face, escaping through crimson cheeks._

_“I’m not always one of those.” she said defiantly._

_Jakuzure let out a low, dirty chuckle._

_“Oh I know.” she said, the sound like music to Satsuki’s ears._

_Satsuki kept walking, fighting to keep the blush off her face. There was silence for a few moments, then;_

_“Yes.”_

_“Pardon?” said Satsuki, turning to look down at Jakuzure._

_“I said ‘yes’.”_

_“Yes what?” Satsuki repeated, quirking an eyebrow. Jakuzure grinned._

_“Yes, I’m telling you to kiss Me.” she said simply._

_Satsuki flushed and looked away for a moment, but then, almost inexorably, her face turned back towards Jakuzure’s and she bent at her knees, leaning down, a hand coming up to nervously brush a strand of hair over one of her ears. Jakuzure smiled sweetly and did nothing but tilt her head up slightly, her hands still in her pockets. So, sighing, Satsuki leant down the rest of the way and pressed her lips firmly to Jakuzure’s, letting out a soft sound of pleasure as she did so, feeling her lips mold softly to hers, tasting her cherry lip-gloss. Jakuzure’s arm slid around her shoulders, looking as if she were supporting herself. In reality, the arm held Satsuki in place, forcing her to kiss her harder, fiercer. Everything crystalized into one perfect moment._

_Click!_

_Satsuki’s gaze snapped up and she swung her head sideways to stare at the phone held loosely in Jakuzure’s hand above them, at the perfect angle to catch the kiss they had just shared._

_“Hey!” Satsuki said, heat rising to her face, “What do you think you’re doing!?”_

_“Taking a picture.” Jakuzure said innocently, failing to keep the grin from her face, “It’s not my fault that you look so damn cute when I kiss you.”_

_“Oh my god, shut up.” Satsuki flushed a deeper shade of crimson, darting her head around, searching for witnesses. Thankfully this area of the park seemed more or less vacant of foot-traffic right now._

_“You’re so sensitive!” Jakuzure chuckled, gleefully setting the picture as her phone’s background._

_“You’re so senseless!” Satsuki shot back, trying to catch a glimpse of the photo._

_“Here, get a good look.” Jakuzure said, mollifying her, passing her the slender phone, “Delete it if you’re gonna be all butthurt about it. I’m not the one in the closet.”_

_Satsuki stared down at the picture, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth despite herself._

_“I am not ‘butthurt’. Or in the closet. I just worry about people causing trouble at work.” She tossed the phone back lightly and, in a fit of deliberate carelessness, slung her arm around Jakuzure’s shoulder, pulling her into the crook of her arm as they walked. Jakuzure was the one to blush that time, letting herself be drawn close to Satsuki’s side. She looked up at her quizzically through her pink cheeks._

_“You didn’t delete it.” she said, her tone making it a question._

_“Ah well.” Satsuki said, smiling slightly, “It’s a good picture.”_

 

“I knew that photo would be trouble.” Satsuki said in the silence, half frowning, half smiling.

“See?! What was that?!” Ryuko asked, pointing at Satsuki’s face as if marking her.

“What? Nothing, that was nothing.” Satsuki insisted, folding her arms across her body.

“ _Bullshit_ was it! Which brings me back to my original point,” Ryuko said, giving Satsuki a _look_ , “What is _up_ with you two?”

Satsuki huffed out a breath and looked away, “Nothing is up with us. We’re on a break.”

“By definition, for you two to _be_ on a break, something must be up with you. So spill it already.” Ryuko said, exasperated at her evasion.

Satsuki rubbed at the bridge of her nose in frustration. She did want to talk to Ryuko about this, but she had absolutely no intention of discussing certain… _aspects_ of her relationship with Jakuzure to her.

“Look…” she began, trying to ignore the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks, “Our problems include some stuff I’d rather not share with my sister, okay?” She hoped Ryuko would understand and act in a calm, mature-

“What, she can’t get your rocks off or something?” Ryuko asked, dashing her hopes, “Or is she like, super into butt-stuff?” Satsuki managed to flush and blanch at the same time.

“What!? No, nonononono. We just…do some stuff that people might not consider…normal.”

“Pffft, so what?” Ryuko waved a hand negligently, “Like 90% of sex isn’t _normal_. Hell, you two are both girls so you’re already into ‘not-normal’ stuff right there!”

“The word is ‘abnormal’.” Satsuki said, shaking her head.

“No, I really mean it though!” Ryuko insisted, “No one cares if you’re into butt-stuff. Or like, feet. Or that fifty-shades of grey shit. Whatever makes you happy, right?”

“God, why are we talking about this?” Satsuki asked, face practically in her hands.

“Because the two of you need to grow up, that’s why.” Ryuko said, frowning at her, “You’re both miserable, and I bet you aren’t talking either, which isn’t gonna fix anything. And god knows, I can’t talk with all the issues I have, but if the two of you can make each other happy, and that _includes_ in the bedroom, then you shouldn’t throw that away. Especially after all the shit we went through with mom.” Ryuko’s voice took on a huskier edge and she leant back onto the couch, looking uncomfortable.

“Ryuko, are you okay?” Satsuki asked, her eyes going soft as she saw the frown forming on her face.

“It’s just…you put up with so much shit.” Ryuko murmured, “And you’re _okay_. You have a girlfriend. A sex life. A real relationship!” Her voice wavered, cracked, and finally broke.

“And I haven’t…I-I can’t-” she cut herself off, dashing the beginnings of tears away from her face.

“Ryuko, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think- I mean, I didn’t even know…” said Satsuki, feeling as if the ground had been swept suddenly from beneath her feet. Without thinking she leaned in and pulled Ryuko to her, feeling her shoulders shake as she half-grumbled, half-sobbed into the hug.

“Sorry, shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to get all emotional or anything, I just-” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Satsuki said simply, running a hand through her hair, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” She pulled back and gave Ryuko an encouraging look, her inner fire shining through.

“It was something that was done to you, not something you did. And our pasts do not define who we are or who we will be. You’ll be okay, nee-san.”

Ryuko sniffled, rubbed at her eyes with balled fists, like a child.

“Yeah? You come up with that yourself?” she asked, making Satsuki smile.

“No, my therapist did.” she said. Ryuko raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

“Ah, Jakuzure, huh? She’s got some big words for such a small girl.” Ryuko said, snorting at her own joke.

“Don’t let her hear you cracking height jokes.” Satsuki said, smiling.

“Yeah, yeah…” said Ryuko, “Look…for what it’s worth, she’s been good for you. I wish me and Mako were half as…” she trailed off to a clumsy halt. Slowly, her cheeks turned pink, then red. One hand came up and skewered Satsuki with a pointing finger.

“ _You. Did not hear. A goddamn thing.”_ she said in a low, hoarse tone, her cheeks flushed with blood.

Satsuki threw her head back and laughed, long and loud. The sound was so joyous and free that Ryuko actually cracked a smile. It felt good to laugh after so long, and Satsuki felt the knot in her chest loosen slightly.

“So…” she said through a stream of chuckles, “You and Mankanshoku, hmm?”

Ryuko went another shade darker.

“…no comment.”

“She did tell Gamagoori that she was interested in somebody already…” Satsuki mused, enjoying the reversal of their discomfiture, “And you two _did_ go on a date together.”

Ryuko decided that the ceiling was the most interesting thing she’d seen in a long time.

“Hmm, for that matter, what are the chances of both of us being lesbians?” Satsuki asked, putting a finger to her lips.

“I’m not.” Ryuko coughed, looking as if she wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it in after her.

“Oh?”

“Keeping my options open. Metaphorically speaking.”

“Well I still accept you no matter what.” Satsuki said, in a joking, saccharine tone that made Ryuko roll her eyes.

“Thanks. Look, Satsuki. Will you do one thing for me?” she asked, dropping the joking attitude.

“Alright, what?” said Satsuki, suddenly serious.

“Invite Jakuzure tonight.” Ryuko said, holding up a hand to forestall Satsuki’s response, “I’m not saying jump her bones or propose to her! Just, invite her. If she comes, be nice, be friendly. The others will feel strange if she’s not there anyway. If sex is your problem, then maybe just…don’t have any?” Satsuki gave her a look, but nodded slowly, considering the idea.

“I’ll invite her. Just because the elites always feel wrong if they’re one short, that’s all.”

“Pft, even if Jakuzure does come they’ll be one short!”

“Ryuko…” Satsuki chided, unable to repress her smile any longer, “Shut up and put your movie back on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the Other Hand is kinda self-explanatory really. I love linking events in what I write, so I just went overboard.  
> So we have a matched set of gift-giving scenes, a callback to the dream scene from Reflections, and we find out that Jakuzure wasn't kidding about being Satsuki's therapist.
> 
> Things you didn't know you didn't care about: PART TWO!
> 
> 1) I really hate Friday the 13th Sequels.  
> 2) I had NO IDEA that Ryu/Mako was a thing in my own head until my fingers typed it out without asking my brain. I normally pair Mako/Gama!  
> 3) I was nearly sick rewriting the dream to be with Ragyou.  
> 4) Ryuko has known about Jakuzure for a while, but didn't say anything because a) it wasn't her business, b) it was helping Satsuki's issues.  
> 5) Satsuki has been googling questions about why people cry so much after breakups. She's reasonably sure she's cried more in the past month than the previous 18 years.  
> 6) I probably have to update ADKOR, so this will be the last chapter for a little while, but I have more written!
> 
> Views and Kudos are appreciated, Comments are adored beyond belief, and as always, Thanks for Reading!


	4. Declarations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parties, Pairings and Problems. What's broken doesn't have to stay broken.

 

Date: October 31st (Considerably later)

 

The girl crept forward into the house, her flashlight casting scant illumination over the bare wooden floor, carpeted with dust and neglect. She hissed out a breath as her foot drew a creak from a rickety floorboard, loud and echoing in the dusty silence. Slowly she stepped forward, the pale beam of light revealing a kitchen, the grime-covered remains of glasses and plates piled up in untouched heaps. Nothing had disturbed them, not even rats, though a covering of mold puffed up from them in dull greens and blues. Beside them, standing out, was a radio. It was a handheld thing of modern design, much like the one she was carrying. Much like the one her friend had been carrying. Should have been carrying, still. She took a deep breath, looking slowly down at the radio clenched in her other hand, knuckles white. Something lurked in the dark behind her, taking one step closer, then another.

“He’s behind you!” Sanageyama yelled, throwing popcorn at the screen, to mixed approval. Some groaned, some cheered, Satsuki slapped him lightly on the back of his head, and Ryuko catcalled, demanding to know how oblivious a person could possibly be. On screen, the girl ran her fingers over the radio sitting on the counter, as if trying to deny what it meant. Her fingers came back red and sticky. The camera angle revealed the reflection of something mere feet from her. Everyone became silent as the tension slowly mounted, Ryuko leaning in, obviously excited to see what happened next. A hand reached out, grotesque and inhuman. Still, she didn’t notice. It reached out and-

 

_BANG BANG BANG!_

 

Everyone started. Gamagoori, Sanageyama and Inumuta all flinched as one. Seconds later, they looked at each other, their eyes silently meeting and a wordless agreement passed between them that nobody had seen anything. Mako gasped, Ryuko whooped, startled, and even Satsuki shot round to the direction of the banging. Suddenly, she remembered that she had dismissed Soroi for the evening and that someone was merely knocking on the front door. She kicked herself to her feet and headed out, just as everyone’s attention returned to the film, groans rising up as they realized they’d missed the best bit entirely.

Outside, Jakuzure kicked her heels together absent-mindedly, wishing she didn’t feel so awfully nervous. She looked down at her pink trainers and at her outfit, wondering for the fiftieth time if she wasn’t dressed too casually. Satsuki said it was a party, yes, but Satsuki’s idea of a party might be a twelve course meal and a string quartet. If it was, she was going to be less than pleased. That thought made her wonder why Satsuki had even invited her; by all accounts she was less than pleased at Jakuzure herself, and avoided talking about her with the others. So deep in thought was she that the door was open for several moments before she looked up.

“Are you coming in, or do you want to stand outside all night?” Satsuki’s low, amused voice drifted up to her ears through the haze of embarrassment forming around her face. Jakuzure shook her head.

“As much as the idea appeals, I think I might freeze to death before I could be properly festive.”

“Well you’d better come in then, hadn’t you? You look nice, by the way.”

Jakuzure flicked her eyes down to her outfit; black shorts and tank-top covered by a long, baggy grey sweater she had adorned with three bones in a row, imitating her old uniform, and a pair of thigh highs decorated with sheet music and notes that made her legs look very nice indeed. Pink trainers completed the look, as did a baseball cap adorned with a cute skull motif that had been a birthday present from Satsuki last year.

“Thanks.” She murmured, stepping inside past Satsuki, awkwardly giving her too much room, “You as well.”

Satsuki nodded, a small smile on her face, acknowledging the awkwardness. In contrast to her usual professional look, she’d managed to dress almost casually for the occasion in a loose, flowing shirt and a blue skirt that fell to mid-thigh. Dressed that way she seemed like a normal girl, not a jet-setting industry chief.

Jakuzure stepped past Satsuki and into the living room quickly, before she could be cornered into a conversation alone. The living room was dark aside from the glow of the large television set up there, and a variety of couches had evidently been pushed in to turn it into a home cinema of a kind. Halloween decorations were scattered around; cobwebs, a glowing crescent moon, a plastic light-up pumpkin. Plates of various Halloween themed snacks sat on end tables and by one wall, and to her surprise various bottles of alcohol in varying states of emptiness were also on display. The room was full, if not crowded. Jakuzure counted six other people, not including herself.

_And Satsuki makes eight,_ she mused, _the whole gang’s here._

On the leftmost couch sat three figures- a pair and an odd man out; the two slender forms of Iori and Inumuta barely balancing out the titanic form of broad-shouldered Gamagoori, while the large center couch was half empty, holding only a slouching Ryuko and an exuberant looking Mankanshoku. On the far right, Sanageyama lounged across all three seats of his couch, beer in one hand, popcorn in the other.

 

She entered to a chorus of desultory cheers and a handful of thrown popcorn from a tipsy looking Sanageyama.  
“Damn it monkey, quit living up to your name!” Ryuko complained, nodding a greeting to Jakuzure,

“Nice of you to finally make it, pintsize.” she said, raising a dark brown bottle of what could only be beer. Next to her, Mankanshoku Mako waved an exuberant greeting, bizarrely happy as always, a similar bottle in one hand. Jakuzure’s mind briefly crashed to a halt as she considered the thought of a _drunken_ Mankanshoku.

“You’re late Jakuzure! Lateness is unacceptable!” Gamagoori thundered, breaking her from her reverie. Behind him, Inumuta smirked and waved a hand, rolling his eyes at Gamagoori’s outburst.

Jakuzure snorted in response and slunk over to the central couch, rapping her knuckles lightly against Ryuko’s proffered fist as she passed. She waved back to Inumuta and nodded to Mako, slumping down into the couch beside her. The other choices would be either a seat on her own, or a seat next to Satsuki. And the thought of that made her already pounding heartrate redouble.

_I could always sit on Sanageyama,_ she thought, with visions of the reaction _that_ would get. Shaking her head, she fixed Gamagoori with a stare.

“I’m _fashionably_ late, Gamagoori. I’d explain that concept to you, but it’d take too long.” she said, turning to Ryuko, leaning around Mako to fix her with a stare, “And quit calling me ‘pintsize’, _delinquent._ ”

Ryuko opened her mouth to reply, probably with something rude, but Satsuki walked in and took her seat next to Ryuko, picking up a half-empty bottle of beer, surprising Jakuzure once more. She’d seen Satsuki drink sake once and that was it, and that more an air of ritual than a social activity.

Satsuki caught her stare and misinterpreted it, clicking her fingers as a thought occurred to her.

“Oh, I’m sorry Jakuzure, let me get you a drink. I gave Soroi the night off and I completely forgot my duties as Hostess.” she said, rummaging in an icebox below the snack table, “What would you like? Beer? Sake?”

“Soda.” Jakuzure murmured, “If you have it.” Every brain cell was screaming at her that the first two choices had only horrible outcomes when imbibed at a party hosted by her _not-quite_ ex-girlfriend.

Satsuki looked askance at her, but only for a moment. She nodded and withdrew a can of cola from the box and tossed it expertly underarm towards her. In the way, Ryuko ducked backwards with slightly more than human speed, letting it tumble safely into Jakuzure’s lap. She opened it with a hiss and took a sip.

“Thanks.” she said again, more quietly than she’d have liked.

_Damn it, I’m sweating bullets and all she’s doing is being polite._

Satsuki reclaimed her seat with a graceful dip and turned to Inumuta, every inch the gracious hostess.

“Is everyone ready? Did we rewind a little? Alright then, let’s go.”

As the movie continued, Jakuzure found herself relaxing just a little bit, enjoying everyone’s reactions. As the girl was snuck up on by whatever hideous monster remained just off-screen, she leant sideways and whispered to Mako in a low voice.

“What are we watching?”

“A horror movie, ummm, ‘ _Haunted House on the Hill_ ’, I think…” Mako mumbled, visibly straining to recall the title, one finger to her lips.

“Is it any good?” Jakuzure whispered back. Mako mulled over that thought for a moment before replying.

“Mmm, yeah, but the plot is kinda complex.” she said finally.

At this point, Ryuko intervened, leaning in from the other side and making a disbelieving face.

“Are you kidding me, Mako? It’s two girls exploring a haunted house! That’s as simple as it gets.”

“But there’s this whol-“

Whatever Mankanshoku had been about to say was lost in the roaring, gurgling scream of the monster making its leap, startling all three of them into paying attention, lapsing into silence once more. Jakuzure took another sip of her cola and tried to force herself to relax, with mixed results.

 

Satsuki leaned back in her seat, eyes half-lidded, watching the occupants of the room as much as she was watching the movie; she’d always enjoyed people-watching, and she felt a small sense of satisfaction as her eyes lingered on each of her friends in turn. The people she’d gathered to her; the people she’d trained, raised and protected. The war was now a memory, nothing more, and sometimes she still felt as if she were dreaming this future, completely dumbfounded by how lucky she was to call them friends. To her right she saw Ryuko brush a kernel of popcorn from Mankanshoku’s cheek, her face flushed with a little more than beer, and she smiled at the unexpectedly tender expression on Ryuko’s face. They really were growing up, the lot of them, she thought, as she saw Ryuko _oh so casually_ sit her hand on Mako’s thigh, as if it were of no real consequence, facing the screen with unseeing eyes. There was a small pause as Mako lifted her bottle to her mouth and sipped, and then her free hand settled over Ryuko’s. Seconds later, their fingers slid together and intertwined. Satsuki took a sip of her drink to hide a grin, moving her gaze away for fear of embarrassing the pair. A tingling sensation slid through her, running from the back of her neck down the base of her spine, as bold as a physical touch. Her eyes unwilling panned right and met Jakuzure’s, the woman’s gaze on her like a pressure, making the fine hairs on the back of her arms rise up in primal reaction. She looked away sharply as the eye-contact became dangerously intense. This time the sip of her drink was to cover the glowing heat spreading across her cheeks.

It wasn’t fair that she could do that- set her on edge with a glance, fluster her with a stare. Every motion of her, every line of her expressions spoke of sex to her, from the way she nibbled at her own lip to the piercing stare of her half-lidded eyes. Each of them evoked a dozen little painful memories of intimacy and longing that made her want to- She cut her train of thought short as she took another heavy swig from her drink, coughing slightly as the taste hit the back of her throat. Even thinking about Jakuzure was alluring, damn it. It didn’t help that the soft air of tension from the horror movie combined with the dim lighting was a little too reminiscent of the atmosphere of their sessions, the creeping, anticipatory fear and anticipation making her heart pound in her chest and her breathing a little too fast. She fanned her face with one hand, trying to banish her flush through force of will and stared at the screen again, all too aware of the weight of Jakuzure’s eyes on her.

 

The movie ended maybe twenty minutes later, short as it was, and almost before the credits were rolling Satsuki was on her feet, refilling drinks, serving snacks, anything to distract herself from Jakuzure’s presence. The girl was sitting there still, coiled as tight as a spring with her eyes tracing Satsuki’s movements like a lioness unsure whether or not to pounce just yet. All too soon she ran out of things to do and forced herself to sit down again before her awkwardness became noticeable. There was no need to ruin the evening for anyone else, after all. She fiddled with her hands and finished her drink unusually fast, grabbing a second and twisting the cap off with a bare hand. On the couch across the room, Sanageyama stared in drunken amazement. They were _not_ twist-off caps. Before long, the second movie was underway, and Satsuki’s third beer was replaced by a fourth. No one had said anything about her unusual intake; Inumuta couldn’t see her from where he was sitting thanks to Gamagoori’s bulk, and Sanageyama wouldn’t care unless he thought it was a challenge of some sort. Thanks to his size, Gamagoori had no idea how many drinks a regular person was supposed to have, and Ryuuko was far too busy nonchalantly _not_ kissing Mankanshoku that she probably wouldn’t notice if Satsuki had started slamming shots of tequila. In fact, she was so firmly rooted in her seat and staring so intently at the screen that if she _weren’t_ kissing Mankanshoku any louder Satsuki might have to throw them into a guest room and lock them in until morning. That aside, the only person who might notice was- her eyes flicked to Jakuzure before she could help it, and met an expression filled with dismay below furrowed eyebrows. Those bold pink eyes flashed down to the bottle in Satsuki’s hands and then back to her face. Even without words, the meaning was obvious. Satsuki flushed and looked away. _It was none of her damn business how much she chose to drink at her own party. And how dare she assume her drinking had anything to do with her! How arrogant was she to assume that because they’d broken up she was, what? Drowning her sorrows?_ She took another swig of beer and realized her bottle was empty. Which was a coincidence. As was the fact that she felt like drinking a soda now instead of any more alcohol. Damn it, were pop-caps always this fiddly?

The second movie, a short anthology of horror films, passed quickly- enthralling enough even to distract both of them from the constant wearing presence of the other on their senses. The credits rolled, and Satsuki let out a long sigh. This had gone on long enough. She stood, tapping Inumuta on the shoulder.

“I’m going out for some fresh air. Start the next one for me?”

He gave her a long look that suggested that he knew what she was thinking, then dropped his gaze from hers.

“Got it.” he said brusquely. Friends they might be now, but she would always be his boss. Just a little.

She smiled to take the edge from her demand, and headed for the door. Jakuzure had not become the head of the Cultural Clubs of Honnouji Academy without learning to read social cues. She waited for a long ten count and then slid to her feet and followed just as the new movie started, distracting everyone’s attention.

 

She stepped out onto the porch, the sudden change from crowded warmth to solitary cold shocking her. Well, near-solitary cold, she thought as she saw Satsuki leaning against the side of the house, the long black coat hanging over her shoulders making her look like a particularly tall crow. If she still had her long hair, she’d look like Sadako, she thought idly, masking a grin by turning to pull the door to, light seeping out only through the side of the frame, and flickering through the curtains where the movie played on. It left them half in shadow, the snow blanketing the world beyond the porch like a frozen blanket, thick and muffling, devouring any stray sound until the absence became deafening. Jakuzure shivered, then spoke, as much to break the silence as anything.

“Thanks for inviting me.” she said softly.

For a long moment there was no response. Just when Jakuzure thought she might not have heard her, Satsuki looked up. What Jakuzure saw shocked her- she was tired, gaunt even, and looked more on edge than she had since the end of the war.

“You’re welcome.” Satsuki said, stiffly, the words sticking in her throat.

“You look nice.” she replied, stupidly.

“You said that already.” said Satsuki, staring down at her.

“W-well.” Jakuzure tried to shrug it off as a compliment, but her words fell flat and she sputtered into silence.

_Is this what we’ve come to? Awkward small talk and long pauses?_

“I suppose we should…talk.” Satsuki said into the empty silence, chewing the words like a mouthful of broken glass. Jakuzure nodded with an echo of the same reluctance.

“You’re right.” she said

“There’s a change.” Satsuki shot back, almost before she could think. Jakuzure gave her a glare.

“Look, I know, alright? I’m a moron.”

Satsuki raised her hands defensively, “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to, you were thinking it loud enough.” Jakuzure grumbled.

“I was **not.** ” The words came out like a hammer striking an anvil. Jakuzure flinched and looked away.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” came her unconvincing response.

 

Silence reigned for a long minute while the two of them stood there, pointedly not looking at each other while muffled laughter came from inside the house. Finally, Satsuki spoke, her voice rough and low.

“I have problems with intimacy, you know that.”

Jakuzure looked up sharply, her face intent. She nodded, her throat dry.

“That doesn’t just mean,” she paused, cheeks pink, “ _Sex._ ” she forced the word out with visible effort.

“Yeah…Yeah I know that.” Jakuzure mumbled

“So when you’re with me, it can be too much. I need space. I need…I need to be able to choose. I need-”

“You need to be in control,” Jakuzure cut her off, her voice small and quietly resigned, “You need your freedom. I pushed you too hard. I’m sorry.”

 

There was another long silence. Jakuzure looked as if she were attending a funeral, unable to meet her eye, unable to raise her head. Satsuki winced and took a small step closer.

 

 “Nonon, you know that all _this_ ” she said with subtle emphasis, spreading her arms slightly as if to encompass not just the evening, but the past weeks or possibly even every waking moment since they broke up, “- Hasn’t changed the fact that I…” she broke off, her courage failing her. She looked down, biting at her lip in an attack of sudden nerves, an unconscious gesture that brought with it a dozen little painful memories to Jakuzure’s mind. Shaking her head, she forced herself to speak again;

“I…care for you. Very much.” she finished lamely, the both of them knowing that was not what Jakuzure wanted to hear or what Satsuki had wanted to say. Jakuzure didn’t know exactly why Satsuki had such trouble saying those three little words that she wanted to hear so badly, but she had some theories, none of them good. No matter the reason though, the lack of those words at all but the most intimate times sat like a weight on her chest; the ghosts of a hundred sleepless nights and a thousand insecurities haunting her every time she had thought of confessing to Satsuki.

_What if I’m not good enough for her?_

_What if she’s scared of admitting it?_

_What if she doesn’t know if she loves me or not?_

_What if she_ does _know she doesn’t love me?_

That last thought had wormed its way into the recesses of her mind, poisoning her thoughts with its insidious whispers. If, it said, Satsuki doesn’t love you, she wouldn’t want to lie to you about it. But she wouldn’t want to hurt you either; she’s too stubborn and honorable for that. So she’d pretend, for _your_ sake. Such thoughts had plagued her on and off for weeks, and they came again now, surging up from the pit of her stomach, tasting of bile and sour bitterness. Satsuki evidently saw some of what Jakuzure was feeling on her shadowed features; she winced as if struck and took a step closer.

“Nonon…” she began, but Jakuzure raised a hand, warding her off.

“I still care about you too.” Jakuzure said softly, “But it hurts.”

Satsuki made a small, nonverbal noise of agreement.

Through the light filtering through the door-crack, she could see a faint blush form across Jakuzure’s cheeks as she mustered her courage before she managed to say;

“T-thank you. For the flowers.” she said, stumbling over the words, “They were lovely.”

Satsuki opened her mouth to speak, suddenly caught off guard by how beautiful Jakuzure looked, her face half lit by a slash of light from a window, her cheeks red from the cold and the embarrassment.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for the biscuits.” Satsuki managed finally, a small note of humor entering her voice, “And the message.”

At that, Jakuzure even managed a small smile in response, a little crooked, half-quirk that was a far cry from her usual wicked grin. Even so, Satsuki would take it.

“You’re welcome.” said Jakuzure, swallowing roughly before she continued, “I’m not finished you know.” She added, surprised by her own courage. Satsuki raised an eyebrow, startled.

“Not finished?” she asked, her voice low and almost as hoarse as Jakuzure’s.

“Yeah. I’m going to win you back.” Jakuzure said firmly, putting as much conviction as she could into the words. Her voice hardly shook at all.

Satsuki just looked at her for a long moment, weighing her thoughts, her feelings, fighting the hammering need in her breast to just _go to her_ and make everything right again. But she couldn’t. Her wounded heart was still torn and weary from the battles of recent weeks, and she needed time to rest, time to heal. So she quirked her lips into a smile and reached out to brush her fingertips across Jakuzure’s cheek. Even in the cold night air her skin was feverishly hot and Satsuki suppressed a shiver not entirely caused by the temperature, a flare of sudden desire roiling in her belly. She shook softly, the greater part of her heart wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss her beautiful, vulnerable some-time girlfriend. But she knew that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

So instead she traced her fingers lightly down the curve of Jakuzure’s cheek, feeling her tremble, like a doe moments from flight.

“So you’re resolved?” Satsuki asked, smiling softly down at her. Jakuzure tilted her cheek, leaning slightly into the caress. She nodded jerkily in answer.

“I am.”

Satsuki lowered her hand slowly, fingertips brushing the line of Jakuzure’s jaw as she withdrew. She saw her shiver once more, then recover, the moment passing.

“It’s getting late, I should go.” Jakuzure sighed, turning to face the stairs.

“Jaku- _Nonon._ ” Satsuki blurted. Jakuzure turned, one foot raised to leave.

“I…good luck.” she said, hoping she hadn’t overstepped, hadn’t misread Jakuzure’s mood, hadn’t-

 

Jakuzure flashed her a grin, brilliant white in the half shadowed light of the front porch.

“Thanks.” She said, sounding like herself for the first time that night as she skipped nimbly down the stairs and into the street, out into the night with her hands in her pockets, her breath pluming into rising clouds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! After 6 or however many months of Hiatus, I'm back! I'm writing this, a little continuation/anthology of scenes for later, and I'll be taking a look at ADKOR as well. I'm really sorry to all of you who have been waiting for updates <3


	5. Merry Christmas / Happy New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our protagonists spend Christmas and New Year at home with their respective families, with rather differing results.
> 
> And of course, they send one another presents.

Date: December 31st

 

_Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick_

_Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick_

_Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick-_

 

 _‘Chime’,_ thought Nonon as the antique grandfather clock in the Jakuzure family dining room did just that, chiming out the passage of another minute.

 

_Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick_

_Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick_

_Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick-_

 

‘ _Chime,’_ she thought again and dutifully, the clock chimed. It had been four minutes since her parents had spoken to her last and she was hoping that the clock would chime a few more times and that she would think of a way to excuse herself before-

 

“You really shouldn’t slouch, darling,” said a woman’s voice formed entirely by singing lessons, elocution classes and a healthy dose of high-class arrogance. For all that, it bore the slight rasp and burr of Jakuzure’s own speech.

“Yes mother.” Jakuzure mumbled, straightening almost imperceptibly. _And here we go,_ she thought to herself.

“And don’t look at me like that, it’s not polite.”

“I wasn’t looking at you, mother.”

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Miss!”

“This is my normal voice, mother!” Jakuzure insisted, knowing it wouldn’t help.

“Then perhaps I need to schedule some more elocution lessons for you over the winter break, hmm?” her mother threatened, waggling a fork at her.

“Father!” Jakuzure groaned, turning to him, fully prepared to make a deal with one devil to avoid the clutches of another. The comfortably heavy man of middle years turned a page of his newspaper and spoke without looking up.

“Listen to your mother, Nonon. After all, you’re going to run the company someday.”

 

Jakuzure’s face fell. Phrases like ‘ _The hell I will’_ , ‘ _What if I don’t want to?_ ’ and ‘ _That’s not fair_ ’ burst up into her mouth and she caught them, caging them behind her grinding teeth for a long five count. When she could speak again, she nodded.

“Yes father.”

 

_Chime!_

 

Silence ruled again, save for the ticking of the clock. Slowly, Jakuzure slouched back in her chair. Perhaps the worst was over.

 

“You won’t get a boyfriend slouching in your chair like that, will you, Nonon?”

She stiffened in her seat, her face going pale. This was _not_ a conversation she wanted to have.

“No mother.”

“It’s past time, you know.”

“I’m not in a rush.”

“You should be darling! You’re nearly twenty, you know!”

“So? That’s not old! Besides…” she trailed off, unable to think of anything to say beyond reminders of her sexuality which her mother would continue to ignore until the sun burned out.

“That’s what they all say, darling, but time flies! You know what they say about Christmas cake!”

Jakuzure flushed and looked down, grinding her teeth. She hated that damn saying. She idly wondered whether or not one could commit _seppuku_ with a butter knife.

“Yes mother.”

“There’s that nice boy you work with, what was his name- his father owns a Konjac business…”

“ _Sanageyama?!”_ she asked, her mouth hanging open as if her mother had suddenly confessed that her new hobby was setting herself on fire, “That fu- that idiot!?”

“Language, Miss! Sanageyama is a perfectly nice boy. Tall, athletic-”

“-Braindead?”

“Wealthy! Well-positioned, and he’s your own age. I should speak to his father…”

“You will do no such thing!” Jakuzure’s mouth said before her brain could catch up.

 

“I beg your pardon!? Do not _lecture_ me, Miss!” her mother said, waggling that damn fork again, “You _will_ mind your manners when you are in _my_ house. I don’t know what silly ideas that Kiryuuin girl has put in your head, the two of you carrying on the way you do. It’s time you grew out of it, I mean-”

Jakuzure didn’t hear anything else over the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears, blood beating frantically as her face turned red, then purple. Dimly, she felt the spoon she was playing with bend, then break in half.

“Not that it matters what you did as girls, but people talk you know, and all this silly refusal to meet the boys I think you’ll like has gone on long enough. I’m frankly worried that that Kiryuuin girl has been corrupting you. There was always talk about her-”

“Don’t you dare bring Satsuki into this you conceited bitc- woman! I’ve told you a hundred times, this isn’t a damn phase!” she said, the dam breaking and the words pouring out, “Stop trying to set me up with men twice my age, stop trying to set me up with society boys, stop trying to set me up with people like Sanageyama just so that you don’t have to hear people make snide comments at your _‘charity dinners’_ about your daughter being **_a disgusting lesbian!_** ” she said, slamming her hands down on the table, only the ringing in her ears making her realize that she was shouting, “Just shut up and accept that I am _not_ going to marry some society boy with a wallet where his brains should be and pop out an heir or two! I’m happy with Satsuki, and she’s happy….with…me…” she trailed off, the uncertainty creeping into her voice as she stumbled over words that were now less true than they might have been.

 

Her parents stared at her. Well, her mother stared, going slowly red. Any minute now she’d recover and tear into her, and things would _really_ go to hell. Her father stared at nothing, as if the dining table was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. She knew he tried to stay out of it, and she respected him a little for that, but it wasn’t as if he ever stood up for her. Hell, as far as she knew, he’d _never_ managed to stand up to her mother, or the legendary Jakuzure temper.

Her mother rose up out of her chair, face scarlet with rage. _Here it comes,_ she thought, despairing.

“Jakuzure Nonon, you and that Kiryuuin bi-”

“ _Riko,_ ” her father’s voice cut through the beginning shriek of her mother’s anger like a tailor’s shears through silk. She broke off, turning to stare at him, lips parted. He cleared his throat, not _quite_ looking at her.

“That’s enough,” he said softly, his eyes flickering to Jakuzure, lingering over her for a moment. “You’re excused,” he added, the words like a blessing. Jakuzure was up out of her seat before she knew what was happening, her legs propelling her away from the table in an almost fight-or-flight reaction to her mother’s anger.

 

Behind her, the big grandfather clock began to strike the hour, but its chimes were drowned out by the sound of the argument starting- voices raised in loud, frantic shouting. Jakuzure made her way towards her room, tears prickling at the corners of her vision. Her room. The words didn’t really suit it anymore, she thought, as she closed the door behind her, leaving her surrounded on all sides by pink walls, pink carpet, pink bed and pink ceiling. Stuffed animals lined the walls on shelves like silent sentinels, and even though the room was spotless, it felt musty. Old. Maybe it wasn’t the room that was different. Maybe it was her. She leant back against the door and sighed, running a hand through the short crop of pink hair. She needed a holiday from her holiday.

“What did I do to deserve this?” she asked, to the world at large.

The giant teddy bear had no answers. The marching band of plush frogs were silent. The dolls and toys failed to provide a decent justification.

Behind her, a sudden rapping knock startled her in motion, sending her stumbling forward and spinning on one heel. For a horrified moment, she thought her mother had followed her here, but then she realized that her mother would have just thrown the door, (and herself) open on her charge through the house.

“Y-Yes?” she asked, feeling stupid, her heart hammering in her head, “Come in!”

The door opened gently, and a tall woman in a dark, elegant maid’s outfit smiled at her, performing a small bow. Jakuzure sighed and relaxed. She wasn’t used to living in a house with a maid. Soroi was different, he was like…a kindly uncle, perhaps. She shook her head and cleared her throat with a cough.

“Sorry, zoned out for a second there. What is it?”

“No apology needed, Mistress. A package arrived for you just now,” the maid said smoothly, either not noticing, or choosing to ignore the way that Jakuzure’s eyebrows climbed her forehead at the word ‘Mistress’.

“W-what? Oh.  Okay, thank you!” she babbled, reaching for the small, carefully wrapped package, “Who is it from?” she asked, searching for a label.

“I believe it came from the Kiryuuin Household, Mistress. It was dropped off by a member of their staff this morning.”

Jakuzure looked up sharply, then her gaze bored down on the package, her fingers suddenly tearing into the wrapping paper, shredding it frantically. Smiling, the maid withdrew, pulling the door closed behind her.

 

 _New Year’s gift from Satsuki- New Year’s gift from Satsuki- New Year’s gift from Satsuki- New Year’s gift from Satsuki-_ Jakuzure’s brain sang on repeat as she finished reducing the artfully wrapped present into a pile of messy scraps and a small velvet lined box. This, she opened by pressing a small bronzed clasp.

The first thing that she saw was a small square of creamy writing paper jotted with a woman’s writing in a smooth, elegant hand. This she grabbed, tucking the box under her arm so that she could grip the paper in both hands, her eyes scanning furiously.

 

_Jakuzure,_

_I wanted to wish you a Happy New Year, and to let you know I hope that your time with your parents isn’t too trying. I still remember the arguments you’d have with them when we were children. Be patient, I’m sure you’ll manage to endure._

The message ended for a few inches, a few points of ink indicating that the author had hesitated several times before choosing what to write next.

 

_Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m still furious._

Jakuzure stopped breathing for a few seconds, her eyes rereading that sentence blankly.

 

_I’m furious with you for pushing me, I’m furious with myself for not being able to say what I want to say or do what I want to do, and furious with everyone around me who has an opinion on the matter. I haven’t been fit company for a while now. And it makes me furious that you have such power over me that a simple argument can reduce me to this. It makes me furious that your absence is so galling to me. It makes me furious that my mind wants you gone and my body wants you back. I didn’t really understand those romance movies we watched together until now. I suppose I’d never been heartbroken before._

Jakuzure faltered, breaking off from reading. Heartbroken. _Heartbroken._ Satsuki was not an emotive woman. For her to describe their argument like that…

Jakuzure felt the tears threatening at the corners of her eyes again, and batted them away with the back of her hand roughly.

 

_And most of all, I’m furious that, for all this pain and anger and heartbreak, I still can’t give up on you._

Jakuzure’s face broke into a wide grin at about the same moment she felt a wracking sob boil up from her stomach, tears blurring the next words she tried to read. She blinked them away, sniffling.

 

_So take my gift, and my blessing, and have a good New Year. I’ll be traveling for a while on business, so I won’t be around. Perhaps I’ll send you another letter, if you’re good._

_Satsuki._

 

Once she’d used a tissue to clean herself up properly, she reread the letter twice, managing to take more of it in, and managing not to burst into tears again along the way. Her smile started off small, but grew as she went on.

“Oh Satsuki… ‘my body wants you back’, huh?” she said, grinning and red-eyed. All of a sudden, she remembered that she still had the box tucked under one arm, and that Satsuki’s _actual_ gift was still sat inside. She sat the note down carefully on her bed and opened the box again, holding her breath without thinking.

Her shaking fingers drew from the box a simple silver chain, an elegant necklace of tiny, silvered links.

Hanging from it was a small, ornate silver key, carved in intricate detail.

 

She smiled. The first, real, unforced smile she could remember, that bubbled up from her belly and blossomed behind her eyes. A tag hung from the necklace, like a jewelers notice. The writing on the side of the tag read simply;

 

_Peace?_

 

* * *

 

Date: January 1st

 

The snowy woods of the Kiryuuin estate were particularly beautiful today Satsuki decided, as she took a deep breath of clear morning air, cold enough to burn through her lungs and leave trails of mist as she exhaled softly. She felt peaceful here, the snow swallowing all outside noise until the sound of her heartbeat and nature swelled to fill her ears- the gentle twitter of birdsong, the occasional rustle of the undergrowth, like a kind of winter white noise that lulled her into a meditative bliss.

 

Yes, she could be at peace here, alone in the-

  
A snowball hit her in the back of the head.

 

“Ha, nailed you, Kiryuuin!”

 

Satsuki stumbled, yelping in an undignified manner as ice and snow fell down the back of her winter coat, forcing her to dance in her attempt to free the offending substance. Another snowball whizzed past her head at roughly Mach Two.

“Damn it Matoi, why are you such a savage!?” she demanded, shaking her coat with both hands.

“Don’t complain to me cos you suck at dodging!” Ryuko yelled, throwing a snowball that spattered messily off her hip and sent her spinning, “You’re spacing out because you were up all night moping!”

Satsuki turned and threw her own snowball, which knocked the wind out of Ryuko’s sails with its sheer force, bouncing off her chest painfully.  
“I was _enjoying the winter air,_ you ass!” she yelled, already gathering another ball of tightly packed ice and snow, “I’ve never _moped_ in my life!”

 

A flurry of snowballs from both participants in the incipient war flew back and forth, some spattering snow over the warriors, some zipping wide into trees or snow banks.

 

“Were _too_ moping!”

“Was _not!_ ”

“Was too! I know you too well!”

“I was not. Damn. Moping!” Satsuki yelled, hitting her in the torso with a well-aimed snowball. Ryuko’s less than graceful dodge had her feet wheeling in empty air as her footing failed her. Her butt hit the snow with a –whompf- of displaced powder, and she dropped onto her back, panting. Satsuki walked up to her triumphantly, tossing a snowball in her cupped palm menacingly, moving to stand over her.  
“Do you accept your embarrassing defeat, Matoi?” she asked, a small smile on her face.

Ryuko grinned back at her, then raised an eyebrow.

“Have you called her yet?” she asked, to which Satsuki made a noise of disgust.

“I’ve been busy.” she grumbled, which made Ryuko snort out a laugh.

“Yeah, I can see your schedule is completely full. Ten to eleven am- Snowball fight with little sister.”

“Pft, you barely lasted ‘til ten thirty.” Satsuki mocked, smiling despite herself.

“Then you’ve got half an hour to call her then, haven’t you?” Ryuko said smugly.

 

Satsuki groaned and rubbed her face with her free hand.

“ _Enough._ Okay? I admit it, I’m not calling her.”

Ryuko’s face fell. “Oh. You at least got her a present, right?” she asked, hopefully.

“I…might have gotten her a small something…” Satsuki admitted awkwardly, coughing.

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Oh shut up! Stop trying to play matchmaker!” she growled, her cheeks red due to more than just the crisp winter air.

“Nonon and Satsuki, sitting in a tree~” Ryuko began in a sing-song voice, grinning widely, “B-O-N-D-A-G-”

Satsuki tossed the snowball right into Ryuko’s face at point-blank range, leaving her spluttering with a face full of shockingly cold white powder.

“Gak, ack, bleh bleh, Ow! Oo didn ‘av to do that!” Ryuko slurred, coughing through a mouthful of snow.

“I really think I did.” Satsuki chuckled, though she did graciously lean down and help Ryuko to her feet.

They made their slow way back to the house, teasing each other and speaking of small things, reclaiming some small part of the childhood denied to them. A snowball fight, a walk through the winter gardens, coming home to warm up by the fire with mugs of cocoa and marshmallows courtesy of a stoic Soroi whom Satsuki could tell was all but expiring with joy at the sight of his two charges bonding.

 

Hats, gloves and scarves removed, coats hung neatly to dry, they sat in thickly upholstered chairs, in a room made close and comfortable by a small fire blazing merrily in an ornate black iron grate. Satsuki was lost in thought, her hands wrapped around her mug, holding it close enough to smell the rich scent of the cocoa, while Ryuko warmed herself by the fire- holding her fingers closer and closer until they were beginning to turn red, almost painfully toasted by the flickering flames. Soroi appeared with hardly a sound, announcing himself by clearing his throat gently.

“A package has arrived for you, my lady.” he said, a soft undertone of worry in his voice. Satsuki turned in her seat to see the man holding a small present- maybe the size of a pencil case. Her first guess was immediately confirmed by the pastel pink wrapping paper and the elegant bow attached to it.

“And it’s from Jakuzure, correct?” she said, resigned.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Sis, that’s awesome! Open it, open it!” Ryuko said, grinning as she watched Satsuki place her cocoa aside and take the package from Soroi- turning the box end over end, as if examining it for booby traps.

 

Satsuki was about to do as Ryuko demanded when she had a sudden vision of her sister’s reaction should the box contain…

A variety of thoughts flashed through her head, each worse than the last.

_A sex toy?_

_Nipple clamps?_

_Jakuzure’s underwear?_

“Oi, Sats, are you okay? You’re going red. Is it too hot in here?” Ryuko asked, misreading the cause of her flush. Satsuki shook her head, coughing.

“No, no I’m fine. But…could I open it alone?” she asked, hating the embarrassment in her voice.

“What!? No way, I wanna see what she got you!” Ryuko whined, settling into a sisterly pout that she’d learnt somewhere in the past few months. Satsuki sighed and folded her arms, leaving the gift sitting in her lap. Ryuko sighed and folded _her_ arms too. After a moment she grumbled, “Show me what it is afterwards?”

“If I can.” Satsuki promised, and Ryuko dutifully turned away, shifting her chair noisily towards the fire.

Her fingers were shaking very slightly as she unbound the bow of ribbon and pulled it apart. She told herself it was the aftereffects of the cold, and began to lift the lid slowly.

“I bet it’s a sex toy!” Ryuko called out, still not looking. Satsuki flinched and went bright red again, even though Soroi had long since withdrawn and no one could see her embarrassment.

“Shut up! Jakuzure isn’t…like that.” Satsuki shot back, her words a lot less certain than she would have liked.

The box’s lid came away easily, revealing…

 

A single sheet of paper, much like the one she’d placed over her own gift. _That settled it_ , Satsuki thought, _she got my gift before she sent this one._

The writing was the instantly recognizable handwriting of Jakuzure Nonon, and it read;

 

_Dear Satsuki,_

_I hope you’re having a happy New Year with the delinquent. I shouldn’t call her that, I know, but old habits die hard. As much as I wish we could have spent the time together, I’m glad you at least get to spend it with someone who loves you as much as I do. Spend some time with her, won’t you? Bond a little? If anyone deserves to have some happy family times for once, it’s the two of you._

Satsuki smiled sadly down at the paper, charmed by Jakuzure’s lack of jealousy and reassured by her ‘informal therapist’ tone, the absence of which she’d missed whenever things had gotten rough, or when her nightmares had reoccurred.

 

_My own family times are less idyllic, I’m afraid. I’m hiding in my room right now while Mother tears the house apart on the warpath. Did you know she tried to set me up with Sanageyama of all people?_

Satsuki snorted out an incredulous laugh at the sheer impossibility of such a match, her cheeks pink.

 

_Anyway, we started to argue and it got pretty nasty. Did you know that you’re an ‘Arrogant no-name bitch’ and a ‘spoiled rotten heiress with nothing better to do than to corrupt upstanding girls of good breeding with her disgusting Sapphic tendancies’?_

Satsuki’s laugh died in her throat. She stared at the paper, her mouth hanging open. She’d always known that Jakuzure’s mother hadn’t approved of their relationship or her daughter’s sexuality, but…but the sheer vitriol of the words took her breath away. She swallowed roughly, barely mustering the willpower to read on.

 

_I stood up for you, of course, and I told my mother that I wasn’t going to marry some society boy to quash the rumors about her darling daughter being a disgusting lesbian. She didn’t take it very well. I’m forbidden from seeing you, which is a little ironic if you think about it._

Satsuki could all but taste Jakuzure’s emotions on the page, raw, and bloody, and painful.

 

_Given that you don’t want to see me again anyway, I suspect her rule isn’t going to be difficult to obey. This was supposed to be a cheery letter you know, but I didn’t want to lie to you and say ‘Everything’s good over here, hope you’re having fun!’ I know you value honesty too much for that._

_In any case, since I probably won’t have a chance later, I’m sending you this gift now. I was going to give it to you on Christmas Eve after all the celebrations but I managed to mess all that up. I hope you like it, but just so you know, you don’t have to wear it. I just wanted you to have it. Maybe it’ll remind you of me when you’re feeling down._

_And I want you to know that it, and I, are yours. Forever._

_Nonon._

 

Satsuki’s fingers lowered the letter to one side mechanically, letting it half fall down the arm of the chair. Tears prickled at her eyes but she refused to burst into tears like a heartbroken teenager. Even if the definition might be reasonably accurate. Her fingers dipped into the narrow box, and came out holding- Satsuki lifted her hand to get a better look at her present.

From Satsuki’s fingers dangled a breathtakingly beautiful choker of black velvet- the slender band maybe an inch or so wide, the length looking as if it were sewn to Satsuki’s exact measurements. It was elegant, simple, and so very suited to her tastes. From the front hung a tiny hoop to which there was attached a silver charm- a treble clef, carved in perfect detail, gracefully shaped and curved, like Jakuzure’s personal mark of ownership.

That, she realized with a start, was exactly what this was. Her readings and explorations had already covered the intimate apparel known as a ‘ _Day Collar’_ , and this flawless thing could be nothing else. She shuddered, and goosebumps flared across the backs of her arms despite the heat as she imagined how snugly the choker would fit around her neck, its firm but gentle pressure a constant reminder of Jakuzure’s control over her. A reminder of her permanent and willing submission. She turned it over in her hands and saw that the very back where the clasp should have been had instead been replaced by a tiny silver lock, the keyhole staring back up at her. She shivered again, this time more violently. A soft, elegant pressure against her neck. A subtle badge of ownership hanging from it. And a necklace she couldn’t remove unless she broke it. It was _perfect._ She only wished she’d received such a perfect gift in better circumstances…

 

A long, low whistle broke her from her reverie. Ryuko was leaning around the arm of her chair and staring at the choker with wide eyes, obviously as struck by its beauty as Satsuki was.

“Wow!” she said, then when Satsuki glared at her, “Hey, I only peeked once I was pretty sure it wasn’t a sex toy! Anyway, it’s beautiful. It suits you perfectly, nee-san.”

Satsuki swallowed roughly, her throat suddenly very dry.

“I suppose it is. And it does.”

“Aren’t you going to try it on?” Ryuko asked quizzically, “I wanna see how it looks on you.”

“N-No. No, it’s not right, with us being like this. It wouldn’t feel right, wearing it without her.” Satsuki explained, still unwilling to put the beautiful present down, but far more unwilling to wrap it around her neck.

“Oh come on,” Ryuko whined, “At least tell me you’re not gonna send it back!”

Satsuki thought for a long minute, thinking back to Jakuzure’s letter. Finally she shook her head.

“No, no. I’m keeping it. I might want to wear it one day after all.”

 

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, Ryuko coming over to examine the necklace up close. Something caught her eye and she squinted past it for a moment, fingers reaching into the box the gift had come in.

“Hey, there’s more paper in here- a note or something.”

Satsuki sat bolt upright, her hands grabbing hold of Ryuko’s wrist tightly. It took all of her willpower not to sink her nails in or start twisting.

“Give it here!” she demanded, making Ryuko raise her hands in surrender, dropping the note back in the box with deliberate casualness.

“Alright, alright, keep your panties on, sis!”

Satsuki’s fingers scrabbled around the box until they came up holding the paper. It was a tiny thing, like half an index card, and on it was written two words in a small, girlish hand.

 

It said,

            ‘No Surrender’.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cultural notes and one BDSM note to clear things up~
> 
> 1) I'm obviously not Japanese, so I use a clumsy mishmash of English, American, European and Japanese culture like most western fan-fic writers. Apologies for japanophiles or realism lovers.
> 
> 2) Christmas Cake saying explained; 'No matter how delicious Christmas Cake might be, nobody wants it after the 25th.' A cruel joke about women trying to find husbands before 25.
> 
> 3) Christmas Eve = Japanese Valentine's Day. Couples everywhere, romantic gifts and outings. Photos beneath christmas trees, that kind of thing. It's a big deal for them to be split up over it. :( Poor girls.
> 
> 4) A day collar is normally an item of jewelry, like a necklace, that is worn in place of a submissive's collar at times it would be inappropriate to wear a collar. It's something personal that can be worn at work, around parents and non-lifestyle people without causing awkwardness or embarrassment. Satsuki doesn't tend to wear a collar during play, as Jakuzure is much more interested in improvised leashes/breath play/bondage involving her neck. Still, the gifting of a collar from a dominant to a submissive is a pretty Big Deal™ that can range anywhere on the intimacy scale from 'Lets be official' to 'Marry me.'
> 
> Anyway, here's ANOTHER update! Aren't you lucky! We'll see if we can't finish this piece soon, don't worry!  
> Kudos, comments and views are massively appreciated, and as always, Thanks for Reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, I'm not dead!  
> This is a sequel to Breather and Secretary that came from nowhere when I tried to write more smut. I guess drama has been invading my life and when I was all ready to write nothing but plot-free sex, this happened instead. I hope you'll agree that we're better for it. This will be updating a few times with at least two more chapters, most of which is already written. I just wanted to give you a taste as it were and reassure you that I remain in the land of the living! Views, kudos and comments are appreciated, and as always; Thank you for reading!


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